


Who Knew Love Could Be This...Dead?

by cosmichoran



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House, One Direction
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Car Sex, Ghost Sex, Harry Styles - Freeform, Haunted Houses, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insecure Louis, Internalized Homophobia, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Murder House, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sharing Clothes, Trauma, american horror story - Freeform, ghost!louis, harry styles and louis tomlinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 96,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmichoran/pseuds/cosmichoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Styles family moves across England to escape a troubled past. But little did they know, when they moved into their quaint new home, their whole lives could change forever. Somebody might just find love within the walls of the Murder House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for quite awhile now, and I'm hoping this is as good as I imagined it to be. I was very reluctant to write this, constantly worrying about it turning out not so great. Please be aware, reader discretion advised. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments, it would really help, especially if it's criticism to help me improve if necessary. Regardless, I love seeing your comments and overall thoughts.
> 
> A general tip: There will always be five asterisks before a flashback, breaking up the Present day and the flashback, with the exception of flashbacks in the beginning of a chapter. I will also be adding tags as the story continues, only to avoid major spoilers before the chapter is uploaded.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is a work based on American Horror Story: Murder House. I do not hold any ownership over American Horror Story, as it belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Neither do I hold ownership over the non-fictional characters presented, either.

_**1997** _

 

Three teenagers rode their bicycles down the street. The one girl came to a halt, in front of a house that appeared to have been abandoned for years. The lawn, overgrown with weeds, the windows were boarded up and the bricks were dirty from the weather and being unkempt. She indicates for her friends to follow her. They drop their bikes on the sidewalk in front of the fence.

“Caroline, what are you doing?” Jake whispers as she pushes the gate open and strides through. Jake and Wanda stay on the sidewalk, watching their friend continue up the walkway and to the door. Caroline chuckles, spinning back around to her friends.

“What, you’re not chickens, are you?” Caroline teases her friends, whose feet stayed glued to the sidewalk.

“This is private property, you know,” Wanda spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. “You’re trespassing.”

“Five minutes,” Caroline begged. “It won’t kill you to be a bit rebellious. You guys need to live a little.” Wanda grabbed her torch out of her bicycle basket, and she and Jake reluctantly stepped through the gate and followed Caroline. There was something eerie about the house that spooked the two of them, but Caroline didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it.

A woman who lives next door peers out her window, watching the three teens enter the abandoned house. She sighs, shutting the curtain and turning around.

The two of them began to grow anxious as they stepped through the front door into the dark foyer. A musty and decrepit odor filled their nostrils, their faces shriveled in disgust. Caroline scanned their surroundings, searching for a light switch on the wall, but the light bulbs seemed to have burned out as she flipped several of the switches. Wanda switched on her torch, providing them light in the dim room. She began to stroll into the living room, searching around. Caroline and Jake meandered into the kitchen.

“Isn’t this the house where that family was murdered about eight or nine years ago?” Jake presumes, suddenly recalling seeing a photo of the exterior of the house somewhere.

Caroline nods. “I believe so.” She spots a door, and starts over toward it. Before opening the door, she decides to check on Wanda first.

“Wanda?” she calls out. Wanda pokes her head around the corner of the entrance of the living room. She shines her torch at Caroline and Jake.

“Yeah?”

“Jake and I are going to explore downstairs.” She swings the door open, fearlessly proceeding down the cement staircase. Jake cautiously follows her, his heart pounding against his chest like a drum.

Caroline stepped off the bottom step, her feet landing on the cement floor. The musty smell grew more potent, and the temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees. Jake and Caroline both shuddered. The scurrying of rats were heard, forcing his head to jolt in the direction of the squeaky sound.

Caroline glanced downward at the floor to see several stains of blood, appearing to be old. She scoffs in disgust. She began to slowly meander around, taking careful footsteps. Jake begins to walk around, toward the windows in the far front.

There’s a sudden shriek, and he whips around to see Caroline staring down at a dead cat who appeared to be torn apart and eaten by other animals. She recoils away towards Jake. He grabs her hand.

There was a sudden loud crash that was heard from upstairs, startling both Jake and Caroline. Concerned about Wanda, Caroline scurried towards the staircase to investigate.

“Stay down here, I’ll be right back,” she instructs him, then hurries back up the staircase. Caroline’s legs began to feel like jelly at every step she took. Her heartbeat begins to hammer against her chest. “Wanda?” she calls out, stepping through the doorway.

No answer. Her footsteps carry her back towards the living room where Wanda was last seen.

“I swear to god Wanda, if you’re fucking with me…” Caroline says, her voice straining. She gulps, anxiety growing inside her at every step she took. The torch, still turned on, rolled out of the living room. Caroline’s eyes dropped down to the floor to see it continue to roll towards her until it hit her shoes. Her breath hitches in her throat. She took another several steps towards the entrance until she completely froze, her eyes landing on the ghastly and horrific sight.

Wanda, her blonde hair and half her face covered in blood, kneeling on the floor, trying to stand up as her bloody arm reaches out toward Caroline. Blood ran down her neck and onto her clothes. Her left eye, bruised and swollen, her lip was split.

“Run,” she manages to croak out, collapsing backwards onto the floor. Caroline belts out a bloodcurdling scream, bolting out of the room and down the staircase to find Jake.

“Jake,” she calls out, searching for him as her feet scurry down the staircase, her feet hitting the floor. She whips around to the area where she had left him. The basement may have been dark, but the windows provided enough light where she could see, and Jake was nowhere to be found. She scans her surroundings, searching for him.

Her hand slaps over her mouth, noticing a familiar figure sitting up against the pole. His head slumped over and his legs wide. Caroline slowly took several steps towards the pole, tears welling in the ducts of her eyes as Jake’s head was drenched in blood. It dripped down the side of his face from an obvious wound on his head. There’s a bloody hole in his shirt, revealing a bloody gash in his stomach. Trembling, Caroline shrinks away, stepping backwards towards the staircase. She darts up the staircase and doesn’t stop.

A tall figure appears as she approaches the door. She comes to an immediate halt, trying to quickly process another way out. The figure took several steps toward her, holding a sharp dagger. He looms over her smaller frame, and tears roll down her pink cheeks.

“Live a little, right?” he raspily whispers, bringing the knife up and drawing it across her throat.

 

* * * * *

_**Present Day** _

 

The little blue car surfed down the roads of Oxford. The family had been driving all night, and to say the least, each one of them were exhausted. But they were eager to move into their new home, considering it would be a new beginning, and a fresh start to a new life. Harry, however, wasn’t that excited. He stared out the window, moping. The move was unexpected and sudden, and he dreaded leaving his hometown, Cheshire, because that’s where he and Gemma grew up and lived their whole lives until now.

The vehicle came to a halt. Harry turned to look out the window on Gemma’s side. He slides across the seat to get a better look at their new home. From the outside, the brick house had an early twentieth century look. However, it didn’t look very welcoming, it had a rather eerie ambiance to it. Harry wondered what his mum saw in the house when she bought it.

“Well, we’re finally here!” Anne beamed, with a lot of enthusiasm. The three of them climbed out of the car. They continued up the walkway to the house, Harry occasionally lingering behind. Anne fished for the keys in her purse as she reached the half-glass windowed beech door.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. A stagnant and musty odor filled their noses as all three of them stepped inside. Gemma’s face shriveled in disgust, as did Harry’s too.

“It doesn’t seem like anyone has lived here in quite some time,” Gemma remarked, observing her surroundings and the odor that hung in the air around them. Overall, the house wasn’t in that bad of shape. The walls had half-wood paneling, half a crimson colored paint that stretched to the ceiling. Ornate and decadent light fixtures hung from the ceiling.

Harry proceeded into the kitchen. Granite counters and an island placed in the center. A light fixture hung down over the island. The rest of the room was an empty space for a table and chairs.

Feeling hungry, he turned around to ask Anne if they could go out to eat. He had no idea when the movers are supposed to arrive with their furniture.

“When are the movers supposed to arrive?” Harry asks, as Anne enters the kitchen behind him.

“Today, I think. At least that’s what they told me. I think we should go out and get breakfast to kill time. I know you both must be hungry.” She handed Harry the keys, then turned around to leave the room. Harry followed her back to the front door.

A door slammed shut. Perplexed, Harry froze in his tracks. He was the only one in the house now. Anne and Gemma were waiting in the car. There were sudden giggles coming from what sounded like two little girls. He whipped around.

“Who’s there?” Harry scanned his surroundings, looking for the source of the sound and the supposed laughing children. There was nobody in sight. All the doors around him were closed when he walked in, which made him conclude the sound must have come from upstairs. Harry dismissed it, believing he was only imagining things. He turned around and exited the house, closing and locking the door behind him.

 

The three of them sat at a table in a diner. They had ordered and were waiting for their food. Harry continued to stay silent as Gemma and Anne conversed. He had been mulling over a question he wanted to ask his mum.

“Has anyone died in that house?” Harry asks, interrupting them. This question began to bug him as soon as he stepped out and locked the door. He thought the door slamming and the giggles were just a figment of his imagination, but something began to bug him, telling him it wasn’t. Anne gawked at Harry, surprised by the odd question.

“I believe so. I think I remember the real estate agent telling me that there were several deaths in the past fifty years.”

“Deaths?” Harry and Gemma both deliberately spoke at the same time, both holding consternated gazes on their mum.

“I don’t see why that should matter,” Anne shrugged. “It’s a gorgeous house that was right in our price range.”

Harry shuddered, feeling uncomfortable.

“What, you’re not implying you believe in ghosts?” Gemma snickered, teasing and poking fun at Harry’s sudden change of facial expression and mood.

Harry scoffed and shook his head in response to Gemma’s mocking accusation. He believed there were no such thing. He decided to change the subject.

“I’m thinking of going to Uni.”

“What for?” Gemma asks, intrigued, and before Anne could get a word in, though she already looked proud of her son.

“To study law.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m very proud of you,” Anne marvels with a smile on her face, proud of him for pursuing his education.

 

* * *

 

A few days had passed. The family was all settled in. Although there were some uncomfortable and awry sentiments regarding the deaths that occurred, they eventually became accustomed to the new home. There hasn’t been any strange occurrences since the day they arrived, which fully convinced Harry it was a figment of his imagination. Since he had to quit his job at the bakery back in Cheshire, he began looking for another job. But unfortunately he hadn’t been so lucky. He also was looking into buying a car, and his search hadn’t been so bad.

Harry stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. Judging by how quiet the house is, he figured he must be the only one home at the moment. Feeling grungy, he decided to get a shower.

He suddenly felt an abnormal icy, coldness whip past him, and goosebumps rose all over his skin. Perplexed, he froze, and scanned his surroundings. All the windows were closed, and the air conditioning isn’t turned on.

His surroundings quickly returned to its original climate when he entered a minute ago. Brushing it off as nothing, Harry decided to proceed upstairs.

Harry shut off the shower and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel off the rack, dried himself off a bit and wrapped it around his torso. He stepped out of the bathroom to see a stranger standing over by his music, looking at his albums. Harry froze, gawking at him.

He spun around to see Harry standing in the doorway to the bathroom, staring at him.

“You have an interesting taste in music,” he commented. His cerulean eyes descended from Harry’s face, scanning down to his damp, half-naked body. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, his eyes quickly met Harry’s again.

“Who are you?” was all Harry could muster as he continued to gape at him. “And how did you get in my house?” His jaw clenched. The boy was left speechless, not knowing how to answer the question. He knew Harry wouldn’t believe him.

Because he refused to respond, Harry roughly grabbed his arm, yanking and pulling him out of his room and descending down the staircase to the front door. He swung the door open. The boy was surprised by how deliberately harsh Harry was being.

“If this happens again, I’m calling the police,” Harry fumed, pushing him out the door.

The boy opened his mouth to speak up, but before he could get a word out, Harry slammed the door in his face. Harry began to wonder why he didn’t call the police in the first place, considering it’s common sense when someone breaks into your house, but he just let it go because it was too late. He also wondered if this house had proper locks on the doors and an alarm system and if it was functioning correctly.

He didn’t know if his mum or Gemma were home yet. If they were, he marched back upstairs and got dressed before they could spot his half-naked self.

 

Harry proceeded downstairs again to see Anne step inside and shut and lock the door behind her. She continued into the kitchen and set her handbag down on the island. He followed her into the kitchen.

“Does this house have an alarm system?” he inquires, leaning down on the island with his forearms. Anne grabbed a glass out of the cupboard. She looked at Harry, surprised by the rhetorical question.

She nodded. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

Harry shrugged. He decided not to tell her about the incident that had just occurred ten minutes ago.

“I know it’s a very old and antiquated house, and I know it’s not common for them to have modern alarm systems.”

“Mhm. The owners that lived here before a few years ago had one installed,” she indicated, filling up the glass with water from the fridge.

Harry stood there, perplexed, but he tried not to make it obvious. Instead, he decided to leave the room.

The doorbell chimed. Anne sauntered out of the kitchen to the front door. She opened it to see a middle aged, petite woman with short, curly, chestnut hair, that ended at her shoulders. She held a small round box in her hands.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Tanya Marks, I live next door. I noticed I had new neighbors and wanted to stop over to welcome you and your family to the neighborhood.”

"Well, I'm Anne. It's nice to meet you." Anne introduced herself then invited her in. Tanya stepped into the house and surveyed the foyer.

“I see you’ve settled in quite nicely,” she notes. A look of distaste quickly crosses her face. This house has always gave her bad vibes, as long as she has lived in the neighborhood for quite awhile.

“Yes, we have,” Anne marvels.

Harry stops in his tracks before continuing up the staircase. He heard Anne and Tanya begin to talk about the house. Harry decided to introduce himself. He proceeded back down, and Tanya turned to him as he stepped onto the floor.

“I’m guessing this is your son?” she asks, and Anne nods. Tanya holds out her hand for Harry to shake.

“Harry. Nice to meet you.” He introduces himself as they shake hands.

“I’m Tanya, it’s nice to meet you too,” Tanya says, smiling.

“So, you said you live next door?” Anne asks.

Tanya turns back to her, nodding. “Yes, but it’s just me and my two boys. Charles and George.”

Harry’s gaze drops down to the round box in her hands, wondering what it could be. “I’ve lived in this neighborhood for over twenty years, and quite some people have lived in this very house, but for a short period of time.” He begins to wonder if she knows anything about the most recent previous owners.

“Did you know the most recent previous owners?” Harry asks, starting to pry for information. Tanya nods, a grim look on her face.

“Yes, in fact I did. The Mansfield's were a very nice couple. But after four months they moved out and headed to London. I was never given a direct answer why they were so eager to move out right away, but Sara beat around the bush about the misfortunes regarding this house. But I think I remember her husband, Terrence surviving a heart attack a month before they moved out, that could have been a reason. If you would like to contact them to ask about the house I think I have a copy of their contact information somewhere.”

“May I have it?” Harry asks, now more curious.

Tanya nods to Harry. “I’ll see if I can find it, but if I do I’ll run it back over later.” She remembers that she’s still holding the box of sage in her hand. She hands it to Anne. “Just a housewarming gift,” she divulges, “It’s sage, to get rid of all that bad juju.” Anne anxiously takes the box from her, setting it on the table by the door.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Anne proposes, trying to change the gloomy and dark subject to lighten the mood. She noticed Tanya’s growing uncomfortable disposition.

“No thanks. My sons are probably wondering where I am. I’ve stayed long enough.” Tanya made it seem like she was eager to leave this eerie house as soon as possible. She stepped backward and turned around towards the door. Anne opened the door again.

“Bye now.” She waved to them before exiting the house. Anne closed the door behind her. There was an awkward and unsettling silence between her and Harry. Harry turned around and continued back up the staircase. Reaching the top step, he could hear tiny voices whispering to him. He froze, grabbing onto the handrail to steady his balance. Goosebumps rose all over his skin and he swallowed hard.

_“Get out.”_

_“You’re going to die in here.”_

Harry stood there for a solid minute, frozen. It took some willpower to finally snap himself out of the trance. He proceeded to his room as if nothing happened.

 

*

 

Louis entered the basement. Lottie leaned against the pole with her arms crossed, waiting for him. He had a certain look on his face, one that she recognized.

“You scared someone?” she guessed.

He shook his head. “No. He thought I broke in though,” he said, amused. “Can’t blame him though.”

Lottie chuckled. “That’s a first.” She quickly turned serious. She stopped leaning against the pole and stood up straight, but still had her arms crossed. “You know what we need to do, right? We can’t let anyone else die here.” Louis sighed, his gaze dropped down to the concrete floor.

“I know. But I think we should wait.” This time, he seemed reluctant, even though he, his family and the rest of the ghosts that lived in the house planned to get rid of anyone who dared to move in, before they met an unfortunate fate that almost every single person who’s ever lived in or entered the house has met. He couldn’t exactly say he enjoyed it, though. Part of the reason for his reluctance this time was something about Harry. It was an odd, warm and fuzzy feeling, something he’s never felt toward the same gender before.

She gave him a curious look, this was the first time hearing this answer, and wondered why he wasn’t so eager this time around. But she chose not to ask.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters may seem short at the moment, but I promise they will be becoming much longer. 
> 
> I'm glad the turnout for the attention this is getting is better than I expected. Thanks so much. You don't know how much this means to me. 
> 
> The next time I update I will be back in school, and I have no idea what this year is going to bring. As of right now, I plan on remaining on the every two week update. I appreciate your patience. 
> 
> This story will have twelve chapters, as I'm trying to emulate the show with twelve episodes. But enjoy. :)

Harry stepped into the kitchen to see his mum and a woman with shoulder length wavy blonde hair, pinned back and a retro-1930’s looking outfit sitting at the table. He froze in his tracks, gaping at the woman. She struck him odd, especially because she was dressed so old-fashioned and nobody dresses like that anymore.

“Harry, this is Dorothy.” Anne introduces her. “She lives a few houses down. She decided to welcome us to the neighborhood.” Dorothy smiled at Harry.

“Hi, I'm Harry.” He awkwardly waves to her, still skeptical. “Nice to meet you..?”

“Nice to meet you, too, Harry,” she chimed. Harry’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He drew it out to see a text from his friend back in Cheshire, Luke, on the screen. Dorothy ogled the smartphone in his hand, bewildered because she’d never seen the modern device before. Harry caught her gaping at his phone. “What is that thing?” she inquires, pointing to the black rectangular device in his hand, which earns perturbed looks from Harry and Anne.

“It’s a cell phone,” Harry responds, finding her cluelessness a bit strange. He couldn’t fathom how someone in this day and age didn’t know what a cell phone was, unless you lived somewhere totally cut off from the rest of the world, with no internet, television, or any form of technological communication - which she definitely didn’t.

“Oh,” Dorothy huffed, her eyes dropping down to the cherry wood table. She could feel their confused gazes on her, and she felt embarrassed. She decided it was best for her to leave. “Well, I should go,” she announces, standing up. “It was nice getting to know you.” Anne decided to lead her to the door. Harry followed them.

He noticed a door that he’s never seen before. Instead of following Anne, his curiosity took control. He slowly opened the door, which revealed a cement staircase, descending into a pitch-black basement. Before continuing down, he turned his phone flashlight on. He searched for a light switch along the wall as he descended down into the darkness. Fortunately he found one, and switched the light on.

The basement illuminated with light. There were three rectangular windows at the far end, supplying more light to the room. The familiar musty and decrepit odor filled his nostrils again, this time more potent. Harry also shivered from the lack of heat. He stood in the barren room, and as he continued to wander around, he noticed some dark, maroon stains on the cement floor. Harry didn’t deny that it was blood. His face shriveled in disgust.

He began to feel an abnormally freezing, intense ambiance around him again, which began to spook him this time. It also didn’t go away like last time, it only exacerbated. He began to feel queasy and anxious. The amount of intense, negative energy around him was unreal, and he recognized how abnormal it was. Harry’s breath was stolen from his chest, his breathing seeming as if it ceased.

The only thoughts that bombarded him were the possible amount of people who died on his property. He sure didn’t believe in ghosts, but he felt like he had to find the previous owners and investigate about the house. He had questions that began to bother him that only they could answer.

Harry turned around, hurried up the staircase and closed the door behind him. His breathing began to slow down and regulate. The aura immediately dissipated along with the queasy and anxious emotions.

“Are you alright?” He heard Gemma’s voice ask him. He turned his attention to her and nodded. She gawked at him, then at the door behind him. Perplexed, she pointed to it.

“It’s the basement,” Harry indicated, stepping away from the door. He hoped she wasn’t going to decide to explore it. There was something dark and evil down there, and he didn’t want Gemma or his mum to become frightened too. Gemma responded with a curious look, but proceeded into the living room instead without asking any questions.

 

* * *

 

Harry drove down the streets of London, searching for the address Tanya had given him. He felt nosy for visiting the previous owners of his new home and asking them for information, but his curiosities only got the best of him, causing him to want to dig for info about the house. The car came to a halt as he found the house. He parked and walked up to the door, knocking twice.

Harry stood there for three minutes. He began to decide whether he should leave if nobody answered the door. There was a car parked on the street, so he figured somebody must be home. Before he could turn around, the door was opened to reveal a woman who appeared to be in her early forties. She gaped at Harry, confused.

“Well, hi,” she mutters.

“Hi, you’re Mrs. Mansfield?” Harry inquires.

“Yes,” she mutters. “Who might you be?”

“I’m Harry Styles. I recently moved into the house you previously owned in Oxford several years ago, and I was very curious if you knew anything about the house?” Her eyes went wide, bulging from her skull. A terrified look crossed her face, and her hands began to tremble.

“Come in.” She ushered Harry inside and led him into the living room. She sat down in the armchair whilst he sat on the couch. He was taken aback by how petrified she became once he mentioned the house. “I’m Sara, by the way,” she decided to introduce herself before continuing onto the grim subject that continued to haunt her until this day. “It was November of 2005. My husband, Terrance, and I moved into the house. We had just gotten married, and were planning on having children. We were also naive, and no matter how many times the realtor warned us, we were persistent to buy the old-fashioned house. We constantly ridiculed the existence of paranormal activity, such as ghosts and demons.”

Harry listened carefully as Sara continued to explain with a trembling voice. He was surprised she didn’t wait for him to ask questions, instead she bravely volunteered to explain everything. He took note of how petrified and apprehensive she grew, as if she experienced something very traumatic in that house. He began to feel terrible for reminding her of a past experience she very obviously didn’t want to remember.

“We were only there for a month, and he began to have delusions. Sometimes he would sleepwalk downstairs, one time he would try to stab me, because he was so deep into his delusions. Doors would randomly open and slam shut by themselves, temperatures in rooms would suddenly drop drastically. I would often too have dreams and delusions of random people I’ve never seen before violently dying. We tried to cleanse the house, and even brought in a Priest to get rid of all the spirits and negative energies, but it didn’t work. It’s a breeding ground for violence and death. That house is possessed.” She grabbed Harry’s hands, staring at him dead straight in the eyes. “Harry, there are evils in that house, evils that would devour you. You need to move out as soon as possible.”

Harry gulped and shuddered, goosebumps rose on his skin, feeling Sara’s words sink in. He didn’t have a reason not to believe her. He has already witnessed some of those occurrences, but he became more petrified as the realization struck him.

 

Harry stepped into the house. He spotted his mum meandering around, holding burning sage in her hand. She walked around the living room until she noticed that her son was home. She began to approach him.

“It’s the sage Tanya had given me. Hopefully it gets rid of all that bad luck she mentioned.” An uneasy look crossed her face as she finished the sentence. Harry acknowledged her. Hungry, he walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat. She continued back to walking around as the sage proceeded burned in her hand.

As he opened the refrigerator, he could feel a vibrant, cold breath on the back of his neck, prompting him to freeze. The familiar, queasy feeling began to erupt in his stomach, and he could feel himself begin lose his appetite as he stood there. Harry shut the fridge and began to head back up to his bedroom.

Later that day, Harry, Gemma, and Anne all sat at the dinner table. They had gotten Chinese. Harry ate in silence, which took Anne and Gemma off-guard. Ever since Harry talked to Sara earlier today, he felt like he should tell his mum what she told him. He didn’t feel right keeping it from her. He only worried about their reactions, there was a 50/50 chance they would believe her and be terrified, or wouldn’t and just think Sara’s crazy.

“Harry, why are you so quiet?” Gemma asks, her eyes trailing up to Harry from her plate.

He sighs. “I talked to Sara Mansfield today, the previous owner of this house.” Captivated by their unending curiosity, Anne and Gemma both give him their undivided attention. “She gave me some very...interesting information. She said the house is possessed, and her husband had been heavily affected.” He paused and glanced up at Gemma, who seemed like she was suppressing a laugh.

“She’s crazy,” Gemma sneered, giggling. “Just because a few doors shut on their own doesn’t mean a house is haunted.” She picked up her now empty plate and stood up to set it in the dishwasher.

Harry didn’t expect any less from her. Anne, on the other hand, he noticed appeared a bit daunted. She realized she had lost her appetite.

Anne didn’t say anything and followed behind Gemma, leaving Harry alone at the table. He acknowledged that he ruined dinner by bringing up the wrong subject at the wrong time.

His phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up to see a text from Luke again on the screen. Harry picked it up to read the text. Luke wanted to visit Harry sometime this week, and he was eager to see his new place. Harry didn’t hesitate to respond. He set his glass and plate in the dishwasher then left the room.

Harry stepped into his room to find the same boy from before sitting on the floor, fiddling with his Macbook, expressing perplexion as if he’s never seen the laptop before in his life.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Harry roared, marching over and snatching it away. He set his laptop on his bed. He glared at the boy as he stood up.

“Sorry. I was curious and wanted to see what it could do,” he apologized, putting his hands up and cowering from Harry’s angry disposition. His cheeks turned red in embarrassment. Harry could only stare at him, bewildered, and unable to take him seriously. It reminded him of Dorothy’s cluelessness about his phone.

“It’s a laptop computer,” Harry responded. “You can search the internet with it, watch videos, listen to music, and play video games, etcetera.” Harry could see he still remained confused. Before he could say anything, Harry decided to ask a more important question: “Who are you anyway? And why do you seem obsessed with me?” Harry watched as he hesitated. He didn’t know why hadn’t called the police like he promised him before. He couldn’t pinpoint on it, but something made him not want to.

“Hi. I’m Louis, and I’m dead.” The corners of his lips quirked upward into a smile, and he held out his hand for Harry to shake, but Harry only continued to gape at him. He slowly grabbed his hand, and noticed how abnormally cold it was.

“Harry, if you didn’t know that already.” He let go of his hand and sat down on his bed.

Louis stares at him, both surprised and puzzled.

“You...believe me?”

Harry nodded. “Well I have no reason not to,” he huffed. “My sister would laugh at you, though.”

Louis softly chuckled, sitting down beside him.

“She’ll realize soon enough.”

Harry was still processing that he was talking to a real ghost, and he was sitting right beside him. But it did sound stupid to him, considering that ghosts weren’t real - as he believed up until this very moment. He began to question why he didn’t tell him the first time they met, then Harry wouldn’t have dragged him out of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me the first time? When I thought you broke in?”

“I doubted you would believe me. You would have thought I were crazy and would have probably called the police, too. I wanted to wait and see how long it would take for your disbelief to fade until I actually told you. However, I didn’t expect it to be this soon. My guess is you talked to the Mansfield's?”

Harry nodded in response to his accurate presumption. Louis turned to look at his laptop, then turned back to Harry and furrowed his eyebrows.

“So, what’s this ‘internet’ you speak about?” He changes the subject, deciding to move onto a different topic of discussion. One that had intrigued him enough to ask the question. 

Harry laughed at his cluelessness. He grabbed his laptop from behind him and set it on his lap.

Fascinated, Louis watched as Harry maneuvered his finger on the pad, and turned his attention up to see an arrow move across the screen. Harry clicked on the Safari icon at the bottom of the screen, and a white page popped up, covering the background. Harry typed ‘Google.com’ into the search bar and pressed enter. It took three seconds to load. Louis didn’t realize his jaw had dropped to the floor.

“Bloody hell. It’s amazing how fast the world changes while you’ve been dead for over twenty years,” he enamored, trying to find humor in the situation, but his voice faltered and his gaze dropped to the floor.

Harry observed how instantly his attitude changed, and couldn’t help but feel pity for him. He set his laptop down beside him and wrapped his right arm around his shoulders, hugging Louis close to him. Skeptical, Louis looked up at Harry.

"How come you’re not the least bit scared and trust me so easily?”

Harry shrugged. “There’s no negative aura around you, that would give me anxiety and makes me feel sick.”

A silence hung in the air between them. For the first time, Louis began to feel different, a strange feeling he’s never harbored in the past twenty years other than the somber ambiance that permanently follows him. Ever since he met Harry, it only increased. The emotion he felt for the curly haired lad he believed had to be unusual. Without thinking, Louis lifted his bloodless hand and slowly placed it in Harry’s.

Harry’s gaze snapped down to his right hand as he felt the familiar freezing, lifeless sensation rush through him again. Louis’ hand was properly placed in his, his fingers curling between Harry’s. Harry’s jaw fell open. Realizing his actions, Louis immediately drew his hand back, ashamed.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, no,” Harry cut him off, “It’s-It’s fine.” As much as Harry attempted to reassure Louis, he didn’t believe him, and he genuinely believed he freaked Harry out, however Harry was only slightly bothered. He actually didn’t mind.

“I’m not a faggot,” Louis muttered, showing distaste for the demeaning word. It shocked Harry, his jaw fell agape. Before he could say anything, Louis vanished right before him. He had some deep internalized homophobia, and Harry figured it was a result of the time period he grew up in, with the lack of awareness and technology that quickly spreads information today. He was determined to help Louis overcome it and help him realize there’s nothing wrong with how he feels towards him.

Harry decided to see what his mum and Gemma were up to. He didn’t hear them come upstairs. He left his room and proceeded down the hallway and down the staircase. He could hear the television from the living room. Harry entered the living room to find Gemma and his mum sitting on the couch, watching Paranormal Activity. He rolled his eyes. Gemma turned to see him enter the room.

“So timely,” he mumbled, and Gemma snickered.

Harry disregarded the film and decided to meander around the house, looking for Louis. He couldn’t figure out where he could be. The only conclusion he could come to is that he’s inconspicuous, or hiding from him. He glanced at the door that led to the eerie basement, but decided not to search down there, especially because it’s very late at night. Who knew the amount of paranormal activity that could be occurring in a murky and desolate basement in a haunted house.

Later that night, Harry lies awake in his bed, unable to sleep. Ever since he met Louis, he started to become more cynical. Anyone could be watching him at any given moment, and he wouldn’t even know. Another part of him wanted to believe he was going crazy, like Terrence Mansfield did. However, everything during the interaction between Louis and him earlier seemed so real that it was too difficult to pass off as his imagination.

 

* * *

 

The early morning sunshine shone through the windows of his bedroom. Harry’s eyes peeled open. He felt drained from the lack of sleep he had. He leaned over to look at the clock on his nightstand, and was surprised to find he slept much later than usual. Harry pushed the duvet back and set his feet on the cold, hardwood floor. He trudged downstairs.

Harry entered the kitchen to find a black and white cat sitting on one of the chairs. He guessed his mum was behind this. He continues over to the refrigerator to prepare himself breakfast.

“So I see you have met Dusty,” Anne blithely says as she enters the kitchen. Harry seldom acknowledges his mum and continues to prepare himself breakfast, which he was very hungry. It doesn’t take long for her to notice that Harry’s not interested and barely acknowledged her. She begins to speculate why her son has been so quiet and reserved lately, it wasn’t like him, and she only began to worry about him.

He sits down at the table with his bowl of cereal and orange juice. Harry occasionally eyes Dusty from time to time as he ate. She was constantly looking around, which he found was odd. As he went to take a sip of his orange juice, Dusty suddenly started growling while staring at nothing-at least nothing humans could detect. Harry and Anne’s gazes both flicked down to the cat, confused. Both their gazes eventually met, still holding muddled faces.

“Must be a ghost,” Anne chuckled humorously, but she made it clear she was obviously joking. Harry didn’t find any humor in her joke, he only took it seriously. It made him wonder how else a cat can be provoked to growl when it’s alone and nobody is near it.

Anne slightly turned and noticed the door that led to the basement. Her eyebrows frowned, haven’t noticing it before. She pointed to the door, which got Harry’s attention.

“That leads to the basement,” he indicated, while standing up to set his glass and bowl in the dishwasher. She started towards the door. Harry hurried over to her to stop her. “I don’t suggest going down there,” he spoke up. Anne turned back to her son, her eyebrows frowning, wondering why he advised on not exploring the basement.

“Harry, nobody has lived here for years. There’s probably nothing down there. Stop letting the house intimidate you.” She pulled the door open and proceeded down the staircase. Harry gulped. He determined whether to follow her; knowing it was the best decision, he decided to stay put.

Two minutes later, she walked back up and closed the door behind her. Harry waited for her to speak.

“There’s nothing down there, except for a few blood stains on the floor,” Anne says, “It does reek though.” Her face scrunched up in disgust. Harry looked at her incredulously.

“Was it abnormally freezing by any chance?” Harry inquires, which earns a shake of her head. He decided not to ask anymore questions, knowing he already looks like a cynical oddball to his mum. The atmosphere in the room became awkward between them. He chooses to leave the premises before she could question him.

Anne began to follow Harry, but the sound of utensils jingling together in the drawer, and the spigot from the sink running caught her attention. She froze in her tracks and turned around, scanning the room, but she was the only one remaining. Puzzled, she walked over toward the open drawer full of knives and shut it, then turned the running faucet off. Anne scanned the room once more in case Harry decided to play tricks on her pertaining to the situation with the basement, but there was nobody in sight, nobody hiding. Knowing him, he would have revealed himself if he were. But it was completely silent. Something definitely felt off to her, but she couldn’t quite place it.

 

* * *

 

Two days have languidly passed by. Harry refused to embarrass himself anymore in front of his family. He knew he already started to became an outcast, with his cynicism about the house. As much as he had been trying to get his mother on his side, she was still overall skeptical. He couldn’t figure out why. The odd Dorothy woman who’s definitely not from this time period should be a good convincing reason that there’s definitely something wrong about the house.

Luke had decided to visit today. He pulled up to the house. He proceeded up the walkway and knocked on the door. Harry unlocked and pulled open the door to see his good mate. A smile crossed Harry’s face. He invited him in and Harry led him into the living room.

“It’s good to see you, mate,” Luke chimed, plopping down on the couch. “Sick place you got here.”

“Thanks,” Harry responds, unenthusiastically. He began to spin around to head into the kitchen. “I’m going to go fetch us drinks,” he announced. Because his mum and sister weren’t such big beer drinkers, it usually wasn’t bought frequently. Harry drank it the most, and he hoped he remembered to buy some the last time he was out shopping. He opened the refrigerator door, searching behind all the food and drinks for bottles of unopened beer that would usually be in the back.

“So, who’s your friend?” Harry heard a familiar pitched male voice say. He almost jumped out of his own skin, a shiver snaked down his spine. He retracted his head out of the refrigerator, took a step backward, and whipped around to see Louis leaning against the stove. Out of all the times Harry’s been searching for him for the past three days, he decides to appear at the worst time. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Where have you been?”

“Around, but you can’t see me.” Louis holds a smug grin.

Harry laughs while picking up two beers from inside the refrigerator and turns around.

“For the past two days I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m going insane and you’re only a figment of my imagination,” Harry mutters, starting to leave the kitchen. Louis is unable to understand what made Harry change - from believing him to now convinced he’s only a figment of his imagination. He dared to rest his hand on Harry’s shoulder. The icy coldness snaked through him upon feeling Louis’ touch. Harry hesitated to turn back around. The cold beers in his hands were making his hands cold enough. Harry finally found the wits to turn around and face Louis.

“Harry, what's taking you so long?” He hears Luke shout from the other room as he turns around. Luke enters the room to find him, and Louis instantly vanishes again. Harry sighs, he turns back to see Luke looking worried.

“I had a hard time looking for them,” Harry responds, handing a bottle to him. Luke looks at Harry, auspicious. Luke snaps his cap off. Before Harry could do so, Louis appears behind Luke. Harry stumbles backward. Luke gawks at Harry, watching a weird expression cross his face.

“Are you cold by any chance? Like really cold?” Luke is confused, suddenly feeling an abnormal, icy coldness around him. Harry shakes his head, not being able to relate. Luke shivered, the hairs on the nape of his neck and goosebumps rising on his skin. He could feel something behind him that was radiating the freezing air, but he was too afraid to look. He gulped.

Harry tried to nonchalantly send a glare to Louis, who still remained behind Luke. Harry set his hand on his shoulder to turn him around and head back to the living room. He could feel Louis trailing closely behind, but he continued to ignore him. Harry was not going to succumb to Louis’ clear intentions of scaring Luke.

When they entered the living room, the telly was turned on. Neither of them remembered turning it on. Before Harry could grab the controller, it turned off. Taken aback, Luke stumbled backward. He slowly turned and glanced at Harry, who remained puzzled. Harry whipped around, expecting to see Louis still behind him, but he wasn’t. Harry groaned, annoyed.

“I-I’m feeling cold again,” Luke stammered, wrapping his free arm around himself to provide himself warmth. “Oh my god it’s freezing,” he stuttered.

Harry shrugged, feeling comfortable. The bottle suddenly fell out of Luke’s hands, stunning him. It smashed to the floor, glass and cold beer splattering everywhere. They both jumped back. Luke didn’t intend to drop it, he had a pretty firm grip. An abrupt, brisk breeze brushed past him, freaking him out. Harry noticed how shaken he seemed to have become.

“Mate, what’s wrong?” he apprehensively and hastily asks him. He couldn't know where this situation is going, and he only wanted to try to prevent it from exacerbating. 

“Your house is fucking haunted,” he quaked, carefully stepping backwards and starting towards the door. Harry tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want him to leave, but it was too late. Luke was too terrified to calm down at the moment, and whatever he was seeing and feeling, definitely was the cause. “I’m never coming back here again.” Luke threw the door opened and hurried out. Harry watched him race to his car and quickly drive away. He sighs as he closes the door and turns around.

“Would you just-”

“Don’t,” Louis says, cutting him off. He appears ten feet away. “If you tell me to go away, you can’t see me ever again. I didn’t make up the rules.”

Harry scowls. “Was it really necessary? It’s not like I know the next time I’ll get to see him because he goes to Uni.” Harry watched and rolls his eyes as he cowers. “Can’t you go haunt somewhere else?” he mutters, annoyed. He knew moving into this house wasn’t a good idea, now one of his mates were being affected.

“I wish,” Louis huffed. “Sadly each time I step over the property line, with the exception of Halloween, I’m sent back here. I’m stuck in this purgatory until this house is no longer standing.”

“You can’t move on?” Harry gapes at him, not realizing the quick subject change.

He shakes his head. “Don’t know how. I’ve been waiting for that magical door to appear for the past twenty years. But everyone else who is stuck here can’t either, like the house won’t let us.” Louis’ dismal eyes fall to the floor. He could see Harry’s feet approach, and he lifts his gaze back up to meet his again.

“So I guess scaring people is the closest you get to having ‘fun’?” Harry asks, crossing his arms over his chest, slightly annoyed. Louis sheepishly grins and nods. Harry scowls and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything.

A loud, bloodcurdling scream emits from upstairs, startling both Harry and Louis.


	3. III

Gemma stands in front of her floor length mirror, brushing through her mid-length, tangled ebony hair.

A man with blood running down the side of his face, sandy hair and brown eyes, wearing a white t-shirt stained with blood and denim jeans suddenly, briefly appears in her mirror.

Her breath hitches in her throat. She whips around, but he wasn’t there. Believing it was just her imagination, she continues to brush her hair. The man appears again, this time closer to her than he was before, but vanishes again as she notices.

He appears for the third time, standing behind her, reaching his hand out for her shoulder. Gemma spins around and belts out a bloodcurdling scream of horror.

Harry and Louis both hear the scream emit from upstairs. Without saying anything, they both race up the staircase and in the direction of the voice. Harry recognized it as his sister’s, making him more terrified. The two boys came to a halt in front of Gemma’s door. Harry throws it open to see his petrified sister, collapsed on the ground, her eyes glassy with tears running down her pink cheeks.

“What happened?” He hurries over to her and kneels down to her eye level. He wraps his arms tightly around her, rubbing his hand up and down and in circles on her back.

“This stranger, with blood running down the side of his face tried to attack me,” she whimpers into his shoulder. “He vanished once I screamed.” She continued to sob into his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Harry whispered soothingly, “You’re okay now. I won’t let him hurt you.” He leans back and helps her slowly stand back up.

“It looks like you’ve met Seth.” She hears an unfamiliar voice say. Her eyes shot up to see another stranger standing in the doorway to her room. Harry spins around to see Louis enter. This probably wasn’t the appropriate time since she just had an encounter with a not-so-friendly ghost. She begins to recoil as he approaches them.

“I’m Louis, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand for her to shake. Gemma refuses, and continues to tremble and shrink away. Observing how much more terrified he made her, he eventually lets his arm drop and the smile fades.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, glaring at him. Considering she’s never seen him before until now, she was wary of him, and didn’t trust him. She noticed his appearance was a bit too spontaneous, also. Louis took a step backward, giving her space. Harry looked at him, then back at Gemma.

“If you’re skeptical, he won’t hurt you like Seth tried to,” he whispered to her. She stared at him incredulously. It took her a moment to digest the point her brother was trying to get across.

“You’re friends with a g-ghost?” she croaked, unable to believe her brother. She was still trying to absorb the reality that ghosts are very real and legitimate beings. Not invisible, abstract illusions she constantly joked about and insisted weren’t real. Harry wanted to say no, he just met and barely knew Louis, but he was still standing there, so he couldn’t. He only nodded.

The front door opened downstairs. Harry and Gemma assumed that their mum was finally home. Gemma pushed past Louis and hurried downstairs, possibly to tell her what happened. Harry followed behind her and left her room.

“Where are you going?” He heard Louis ask from behind him.

“Back to my room. I need to show you something.”

Harry grabs his laptop and sits on his bed, against his headboard. Louis plops down beside him, watching Harry turn on his laptop and logins. He opens the internet again, but before he types his search into Google, he turns to Louis.

“What makes you think being gay is wrong?” Harry watched as he started to grow uncomfortable by the question.

He shrugged. “It’s just wrong, I guess. It’s unnatural.” He wondered why Harry was asking him such a controversial question, but he guessed it’s a result of what happened between them last time. Harry turned back to his laptop and began typing into the search bar. He pressed enter, and photographs of happy people wearing rainbow colors and waving flags the color of the rainbow and other colored striped flags loaded.

“A lot has happened in the past twenty years,” Harry begins, “One of them being that a lot more people are aware of the LGBT community, and it’s completely normal to be other than straight. Same-sex marriage has also been legalized in the U.K, too.” He pauses and gestures towards the screen. “The purpose of these Pride festivals is for people just like us to embrace who we are because of the oppression and persecution members of the LGBT community have faced over the many years.” Louis continued to stare at the photos of all the happy people, while trying to understand Harry. “You don’t need to hide your feelings for me.”

Louis blushed, embarrassed that he caught on.

“But I’m not a-”

“Stop using that word as to degrade yourself.” Harry cut him off before he could slander himself again. “Nothing can change who you are. It’s totally normal, and you shouldn’t be so bitter and disgusted about it.”

“What does LGBT stand for?” Louis asks, deciding to change the subject. He began to consider and understand Harry’s enlightening words. The knot in his stomach loosened, the anxiety he held about the subject fading.

“Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender,” Harry instantly responds. He observes how Louis sits there, taking all this brand new information in. The room fell silent. Harry closes out the internet and sets his laptop down on the duvet.

“So, onto a new subject, tell me more about yourself. We still barely know each other.” Harry chuckles, and so does Louis as he breaks out of the deep thoughts.

“Well, I grew up in Doncaster, until my mum and my step-dad divorced when I was nineteen. She then decided to move my sisters and I all the way to Oxford. We moved in, and the rest is history…” His voice faltered, and he heaved a sigh. Harry could tell he didn’t want to continue, and he respected that. He couldn’t imagine how it feels to constantly remember the events leading up to how you died.

“I thought I recognized a Yorkshire accent,” Harry remarks. “But there's one thing we have in common,” he pipes up, “Both our parents divorced before moving here.”

“I always dreamt of playing for the Rovers when I was a young lad,” Louis continues, his head hung low and his eyes still on Harry’s duvet. “But as you can see, that never happened.” The dreary mood settling between them even started to affect Harry. They both continued to sit in silence, not uttering a word.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry utters, empathizing with him. “Maybe I could help you move on?” Louis automatically shook his head.

“Nah. I think I’ll be good for now. Plus, I can’t leave my family.” He finally lifted his gaze back up to Harry and gave a small smile. Louis was trying to imply that as a result of meeting Harry, he hadn’t been as miserable, which was true. For the first time in over twenty years, Louis actually started to feel genuinely happy. Being with Harry made him feel normal. “So, Harry, your turn.”

Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Well, I lived in Cheshire my whole life up until this point. My parents decided to get a divorce last year, which was a rough time. It delayed me from applying to uni. I hoped to apply this year, but when my mum, Gemma, and I moved this summer, it also delayed me again.” He sighs, flustered.

“You don’t seem to have the best of luck, do you?” Louis snickered, teasing him.

“Counting the fact I also moved into a haunted house, then no.”

Louis laughs, amused by his attempted snide remark. Harry’s phone vibrates on his bedside table. He turns and picks it up to see a text from his mum about the puddles of beer and glass shards in the living room.

“Shit,” he mumbles almost under his breath. He slides his legs over and stands up to hurry downstairs and clean it up.

“Harry, where are you going?” He heard Louis ask. Louis starts to follow him.

“To clean up the messed you caused,” Harry rebukes, marching downstairs.

“I’ll help you clean it up?” Louis offers, still following him. Harry doesn’t respond. He proceeds down the staircase and into the kitchen to grab paper towels and a dustpan. Anne is standing by the island with her arms crossed, waiting for Harry to explain.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes to her before she could say anything. “Luke and I were messing around and he dropped his bottle by accident.”

Louis stood by the entrance of the kitchen, listening to Harry and Anne’s conversation. He was surprised Harry covered up for him. But he considered the fact she most likely wouldn’t buy that it was a ghost. He heard footsteps approach him. Harry exited the kitchen without glimpsing at him.

Harry entered the living room and knelt down onto the floor. He started brushing all the glass onto the dustpan. Upon hearing footsteps enter the room, he glanced upward to see Louis again. Without saying anything, he knelt down onto the floor and grabbed the paper towels and dipped them in the bowl of water and soap. He diligently cleaned the floor of the beer.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis whispered to Harry, with pure sincerity. Harry flashes his eyes up at Louis, but doesn’t say anything and continues to collect the shards of glass. Even though Harry wanted to because he frightened Luke into never coming back, he knew he couldn’t stay mad at him.

Harry stood up to throw all the collected shards of glass away. Without thinking if Anne was still in the kitchen, Louis collects the beer-drenched paper towels and the bowel of water and follows him. Harry drops the glass shards in the trashcan and turns around to see Louis following him. His mum was sat at the table with a mug of tea. She looked up to see Louis enter the kitchen. Her eyebrows frowned, having never seen him before and that Harry didn’t tell her he wasn’t just inviting Luke.

Louis threw the paper towels in the trashcan and set the bowl beside the sink. He spins around on his feet to see Anne eyeing him. Harry notices his mum’s curious gaze on Louis, and decides to speak up before she could ask.

“Mum, this is Louis.” He gestures to him, indicating to step forward towards her.

“I see you’ve met a new friend already,” she observes, surprised. Judging by how unsettled and agitated Harry had been over the move and that he hasn’t gone out that often, she was surprised how quickly he managed to make friends.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms…?” Louis paused, waiting for her to finish his sentence so he doesn’t address her incorrectly.

“Cox,” Anne enamors, finishing his sentence. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” She glances out the window. “It’s a beautiful day outside. I don’t mean to be that mum, but you two should go outside and get fresh air instead of being cooped up inside. It’s gorgeous outside. There is a park nearby with football nets.” She observes how Louis doesn’t react well to her suggestion. He gives Harry an odd look. Without acknowledging his mum and before Louis could retort, Harry rests his hand on his shoulder to turn him around in the direction of the front door.

Harry opens the door, encouraging Louis to follow him. He hesitates at first before stepping over the threshold. He followed Harry down the steps. Believing it was the best place and because they didn’t have any other option to go, Harry decided to go to the backyard. He wished he made this decision sooner so they wouldn’t have wasted time walking out to the front, but he also believed he could have tricked his mum into believing they went out.

“Harry.” Louis’ voice stops him in his tracks before he crosses the gate. He turns around. “You know what happens if I continue to follow you.” Harry turns back and realizes how close he was to the gate entrance. He was glad that Louis caught his attention before it was too late.

“Because we can’t go anywhere, I was thinking of heading to the backyard,” Harry spoke up.

“Well, there is another way I can get there without walking through the house again,” Louis muttered. Harry encouraged him to elaborate. “I can sort of teleport myself around the property.” Harry suppressed a chuckle, but remained amused.

“Really now?”

Louis bobbed his head up and down, smirking. Before Harry could make a potential sarcastic remark, Louis vanished. Harry continued down towards the green gate and pushed it open to see Louis sitting on a deteriorating, tarnished bench five feet away. He turned his head in Harry’s direction, and slid over to let Harry sit beside him.

“So I guess that means you can walk through walls, too?” Harry teases, mocking him. He sits down beside Louis.

“Myth,” he huffs. “I can conceal myself from sight, however. You’ve already seen that.” He smirks.

“I bet there’s times you were watching me and I didn’t even know it.” It reminded Harry of those Paranormal Activity films. He suddenly thought if Louis had been watching him shower. Before he could ask, Louis cut him off.

“Before you ask, no I haven’t watched you shower or even seen you naked. That would be creepy and also an invasion of your privacy.” Since Louis cleared that up Harry began to feel relieved.

“It feels like I’m living in a real life Paranormal Activity film,” Harry remarks. “They’re a series of films where people experience all this life-threatening paranormal activity in their homes.” He elaborated before Louis could ask.

“It does seem accurate though,” Louis mumbles. “They should try living here, they’d get a real dose of paranormal activity.” He snickered.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh too.

“By the way,” Louis asserts, “What was that device in your hand earlier? The black, rectangular one?” Harry couldn’t help but stifle a snicker again. He drew out his phone, handing it to him.

“It’s a smartphone. You can make calls on it, text, listen to music, surf the internet, play games, and the list goes on.”

“A cordless phone?” Louis examines the modern device in his hands. He was surprised by how light it was. Harry nods. “And...texting?” Confusion spreads over his face. Harry takes his phone and Louis watches as he unlocks it and enters the Messages app. Harry shows it to him.

“Like sending messages to people. It’s much more efficient than calling somebody.” Harry still found Louis’ fascination amusing and also adorable. Louis lifted his hand up to take Harry’s phone to see for himself all the bells and whistles Harry mentioned.

“You mind if I?”

“Not at all.” Harry freely hands his phone over. Louis swipes the home screen back and forth, then reading all the names of his apps.

“What’s ‘youtube’?”

To answer his question, Harry takes his phone and enters the app, then showing it to him.

“You can watch all sorts of videos, sometimes even films.” Harry types into the search bar a name of a band he would be most likely familiar with. He presses play on the video.

“That’s so...clear and-”

“High definition,” Harry adds the correct term. Louis nods. He continues to watch the music video for about a minute until he handed the phone back to Harry. Harry didn’t realize how hot the weather is. He began to sweat, and his palms became clammy. The weather being this hot was unexpected to him, considering it was the beginning of September and it was supposed to be cooling off. Louis seemed unaffected by the weather, as he observed.

Harry moved closer to him, close enough to feel his aura radiate. Their gazes both simultaneously met, the intensity between them increasing. The feelings Harry harbored for him only intensified at every passing moment, to the point it started to drive him mad.

Without thinking, Harry began to lean in towards Louis. They both closed their eyes as their lips brushed against each other. Harry shivered as he pressed his lips against Louis’, the familiar spectral coldness surging through him. Even though Louis was taken aback, he didn’t object and felt the same strong, increasing lust for him that clouded his mind. Harry grasped the side of Louis’ cheek, deepening the kiss. They both sat there, lip-locked for a minute and a half.

Coming to the realization, Harry pulled himself away at once. An awkwardness began to settle between the two boys as they both recognized what had just happened. Harry began to grow uncomfortable, realizing he had just kissed a ghost. He scooted down the bench. Louis refused to make eye contact with him, unsettled as well.

Because he initiated it, Harry felt embarrassed. He reached out to Louis’ arm to get his attention to apologize, but he vanished right before him. Harry could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He buried his head in his hands.

“Where did Casper run off to?” He hears Gemma’s voice from afar. He lifts his head out of his hands and shrugs. He identifies her allusion to _Casper The Friendly Ghost._

“Don't know,” he hoarsely mumbles, almost inaudibly. She sits down beside him, wondering why her brother seems so upset.

“Are you comfortable with telling me what happened?”

Harry shakes his head. “I'd rather not talk about it. It's something between me and him that needs to be situated.”

“Well I’m always here for you if you need to talk,” she says. “You’re my younger brother, of course I’ll be concerned about you.” A smile makes its way across his face.

“Thanks, Gem. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He hugs her close to him.

“Listen, I apologize for teasing you about the ghost thing.” She heaves a sigh. “I was foolish and I should have believed you about what Sara Mansfield said.” Harry gives a dismissive wave.

“Don’t fret. I didn’t fully believe either until I met Louis. It may take you some time to adjust to. But I won’t let any of them hurt you, especially that Seth bloke.”

 

*

 

Louis sat down in the armchair in the living room, recalling everything that had just happened between him and Harry. He could detect an uneasiness growing inside him, the kiss was so unexpected and odd. The only positive outlook was at least he now knows Harry feels the same, but he didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. They had just met and were still getting to know each other. Louis had been so engrossed in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Félicité was sat on the sofa, staring at him.

“Hey, Fizz,” he acknowledges her, distractedly.

“What’s got you so blue?” She observes his unusual temperament. She noticed that ever since Harry and his family moved in, her brother had been more chipper. To see him crestfallen again sparked her curiosity.

Louis shrugs. “It’s Harry. We might have uh-”

“Kissed?” she intervenes, interrupting him mid-sentence. He hesitantly nods. “I won’t act as if I haven’t been eavesdropping on you two. Not this time, but previous times.” She could clearly see the feelings he had been harboring for Harry, and wondered why he seemed ashamed of their little moment.

“Before you say anything, I don’t have a problem with unexpectedly falling in love with a guy. But I feel like it’s happening too fast. We just met…”

She chuckled. “Firstly, there’s nothing wrong with being gay. I would go and see Harry because I know he must feel terrible and thinks he made you uncomfortable. If you feel like you’re both moving too fast, then ask him to slow down. Do what makes you comfortable.”

Louis looked up at his sister and smiles wearily.

“Thanks. I didn’t realize I needed your advice.”

 

*

 

Harry sat at the table, absorbed in his thoughts pertaining to the situation between him and Louis earlier. He occasionally stabbed his fork at his chicken, but barely lifting a piece up. He tried to eat more so his mum or Gemma don’t become suspicious. Although Gemma already knew, but not the exact reason, she still didn’t expect his temperament to continue this long.

Anne noticed he had been dawdling around his dinner, barely eating much. She watched as his fork lingered around the chicken and peas, barely picking them up with his fork. He had been quiet ever since he and Louis were outside, and then Louis spontaneously disappeared. Harry didn’t give much of an explanation for his sudden disappearance, but he did seem rather down about it.

“Harry,” Anne says, catching his attention. “Would you like to tell me exactly what happened earlier?”

Harry hesitated. Although he came out to his family a few years ago, and they fully support him, he still didn’t feel comfortable explaining exactly what happened. The main reason being that Louis wasn’t even a living person, but his mum was bound to find out eventually. He didn’t know if she would feel comfortable.

“We just had a fight, that’s all,” he lied. Harry hated to lie to his mum, but he felt like he had no other choice at the moment. Anne eyed him suspiciously, not fully buying it, but she chose not to say anything. She was afraid Harry would put his back up if she challenged him. Harry stabbed at his chicken, continuing to eat his dinner. He ignored the gazes from his mum and Gemma.

 

* * *

 

The early morning sunshine shimmered through the windows of Harry’s bedroom. He rolled over on his side, his eyes slowly peeling open. His eyes begin to focus. He jumps out of his own skin, seeing a familiar body lying beside him.

“Fuck me,” he drowsily gasped, bolting up straight. He swore his heart almost stopped, unexpectedly seeing Louis lying beside him.

Louis laughed at Harry’s reaction. He propped himself up on one elbow. Harry plopped back down against his pillow, feeling his breathing regulate. He turned on his side to meet Louis’ gaze, who was now was smirking at Harry, amused by his reaction.

“That’s one thing I could do,” he snickers jokingly, taking Harry aback. He didn’t see that he was joking. Harry eyed him carefully, not understanding how quickly he disregarded the occurrence yesterday. If Harry was going to be honest with himself, he still wasn’t over it and felt the need to apologize. “You don’t have to apologize, Harry.” Louis asserts, giving a dismissive wave.

“Well that’s a weight lifted off my chest,” Harry huffed, relief flowing through him. “But I still think we need to slow things down. It is my fault.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard. Louis followed.

“I was just about to say the same thing. But it’s totally up to you.”

“Well I’m glad we got that situated right away,” Harry remarked. “By the way, could you please not lie on my bed again, waiting for me to wake up? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Louis stifled a chuckle, and attempted to suppress a grin.

“No promises.”

Feeling hungry, Harry slid his legs over onto the floor to pursue down to the kitchen and fetch himself breakfast. He heard footsteps behind him as he reached the door. He turned back to see Louis following him.

“I don’t suggest following me. My mum is most likely in the kitchen and it would confuse her a lot.”

Louis gave a dismissive wave.

“It’s possible to make myself only visible to you. For example, when I stood behind your friend yesterday. You could see me, but he couldn't detect that someone was behind him.”

Harry jokingly shook his head and rolled his eyes. He knew he had to tell her sooner or later, or she was going to find out the hard way. He spun back around and proceeded down the hallway and staircase. He stepped into the kitchen to see his mum sat at the table, a mug in her hand.

“Good morning,” she said blithely as Harry stepped into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he acknowledges her. He continues towards the pantry.

“Harry.”

He stops in his tracks and spins around upon hearing her say his name to get his attention. He steps towards her.

“If you’re not comfortable with telling me what actually happened between you and Louis, I won’t force you. But I just don’t want you to keep secrets from me. Ever since we moved in, you have been unusually quiet and introverted, which isn’t like you.”

Harry could see that she was worried about him, and he wanted to tell his mum the truth, but he knew she most likely wouldn’t believe him and would think he’s crazy about the house changing him and driving him insane. He hated to lie and keep secrets from her, but this time was different. He could feel Louis’ icy breath on the back of his neck, encouraging him to tell the truth, but he ignored him. Harry couldn’t, at least not at this very moment.

He spun back around to prepare himself breakfast. Louis leaned on the island as he watched Harry. Harry found it comical that his mum couldn’t see Louis, but he could. Harry felt Louis’ gaze on him, and tried to stifle a chuckle which would catch his mum’s attention, and she would wonder what he could be possibly laughing at.

Harry promptly ate his breakfast. He hurried back upstairs to his bedroom and decided to get dressed. He walked over to his closet, but before opening it he turned around to see Louis sat on his bed. At this point in time, Harry didn’t really care if he watched him get dressed. Even though he promised him he gave him privacy, he still didn’t trust him that much and could watch him even if incognito.

Louis noticed that Harry didn’t ask for privacy. Instead of leaving just in case, he remained on Harry’s bed and observed him as he pulled out clothes from his closet. Harry glanced up at him, noticing he was always wearing the same clothes that appeared to have a 1980’s touch to them. He didn’t know how Louis could stand it.

“You know, you could always borrow my clothes,” Harry proposed, taking Louis off-guard. “It must be tedious to remain in the same clothes for over twenty years.”

Louis shook his head, refusing Harry’s offer.

“I don’t even think your clothes would fit me,” Louis asserted. “Plus, I can’t. It would just feel weird and uncomfortable.” His face scrunched up.

Harry laughed. He sat down on the bed beside him.

“I think that kiss crossed enough boundaries already. I believe we’re already past uncomfortable and weird.”

Louis stifled a chuckle and considered Harry’s statement. He had to admit he was right.

“Well, I can’t disagree with you on that.” He understood that he should find new clothes, some that would actually fit in with the decade. He did feel grungy having wearing the same outfit for over two decades, especially the outfit he _died_ in. Harry indicated for Louis to follow him over to his closet.

“Not that much of a difference,” he remarked, pulling a pair of black skinny jeans and a white and blue baseball T-shirt out of the closet. He set them on Harry’s bed and began to undress.

Harry stood in front of the mirror, fixing his messy hair. He spun around to see a shirtless Louis. Three fresh-looking wounds were ingrained on his stomach and chest. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat, staring at the grisly gashes. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and a lump formed in his throat. He remained speechless and continued to gape at him until Louis slid the shirt over his head. Before Louis could notice he was staring at him, he diverted his gaze away. Louis rolled up Harry’s long jeans to his ankles. He spun around to Harry.

“So, how do I look?”

“Not bad.” Harry was impressed. For someone who’s been dead for over twenty years and hasn’t changed clothes since, he expected him to be more out of touch.

Harry decided to go out. He knows his mum noticed he hasn’t gone out a lot, and he partially blames Louis for constantly distracting and clinging to him. He collected his phone and wallet and started downstairs. He could hear Louis’ footsteps behind him.

“I have to run a few errands,” he announced, primarily to his mum who was still in the kitchen. Anne poked her head around the wall, surprised to see that her son has finally decided to get out of the house.

“Well I’m glad you’re finally deciding to go out. You’ve been cooped up in this house for too long. If I need anything, I’ll text you.” She disappeared and continued what she was doing. Harry turned to Louis, who stood on the bottom step. He stepped down onto the floor, their height differences readjusting.

“I guess I’ll wait here then,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He avoided Harry’s gaze, and stared down at the hardwood floor between their feet. Harry rested his hand on his shoulder, and he lifted his gaze back up meet Harry’s.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t be so dramatic.” Harry kept his voice low so his mum wouldn’t hear him. He unlocked the door and stepped outside. He flicked his gaze up at Louis as he closed the door between them.

Louis spun around to see Dusty sitting on the floor, staring up at him.

“Oh, hello,” he mumbled, crouching down to the cat’s level to pet it. Dusty took a step backward, growling at him. It took him off-guard. He stood back up and took a step away, afraid Dusty would attract attention again. Anne peeked her head around the wall again, wondering what the cat could be growling at again. Louis disappeared before she could see him. She looked down at Dusty and furrowed her eyebrows, curious. The cat suddenly stopped growling and walked away, unbothered.

 

* * *

 

Harry stepped through the doorway, holding grocery bags and other shopping bags. He shut and locked the door behind him, then plodded into the kitchen. He set the grocery bags on the island and the shopping bags on the floor. Harry began to sort through the bags and put the groceries away in the refrigerator and pantry. He placed the eggs in the fridge and spun around. A familiar, icy breeze whisked past him, prompting him to stop in his tracks. He scanned his surroundings.

“I know you’re there, Louis.” Harry directly assumed that he was up to his shenanigans again. Louis was the only one that actually interacted with him anyway, and he assumed no other ghosts cared for him. He waited for a minute and a half, but nothing happened. Harry decided to resume, he grabbed the milk off the island and stuck it in the refrigerator. He figured Louis would have revealed himself because there wouldn’t be a point to keep trying if he was outed. Harry tried not to let it bug him, but he knew that somebody had to be watching him, and that person made it obvious. A chill slithered down his spine as he continued to think about it.

Harry tried to hastily put all the groceries away. He collected the shopping bags and proceeded up to his bedroom. He expected to see Louis the moment he stepped through the door, but the lad still wasn’t in sight. Judging by how he reacted to him deciding to go out for the day, Harry expected him to be eager to see him step through the doorway.

He strolled down the hallway. He sets the bags on the floor before his bed. Harry decided to get a shower. Because he had become so cynical, he hoped nobody was watching him undress. He would be truly embarrassed. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water.

Harry lathered the shampoo into his hair and scrubbed himself down with the body wash. He unexpectedly began to think about Louis. The longer Harry stood under the hot water raining down from above thinking about him and the strong emotions he felt for him, the longer he failed to realized he was becoming hard.

He flicked his eyes down to his cock to see it had lengthened from being turned on. He brought his hand up and grasped it tightly, steadily pumping himself. The steamy air surrounding him made it difficult to breathe. He sucked in a nasally breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he quickened his speed.

Thoughts about Louis clouded his mind, there was nothing else he could think about. Harry didn’t realize how he wanted him so bad at the moment. The reddened head popped out of his fist as his hand deliberately clicked up and down himself. The water scorched his skin as it pelted down on him. He belted out a moan that he tried to suppress.

“F-fuck,” he stuttered breathlessly, clenching his eyes shut. Harry’s abs furled and unfurled at every stroke. He propped his other hand up on the wall, continuing to pump himself faster and heavily breathe under the vaporous, humid air. His hair draped over his eyes as his head droops downward. He gave his length a tight squeeze, feeling his lust for Louis increase. Regardless of how unsettled he still had been, there were still hidden feelings Harry had for him that continued to grow, and no matter how Harry tried to suppress them, they continued to surface as his hand glided up and down his hardened length at a quickened and sloppy pace. Harry harshly bit down on his lip, stopping himself from moaning Louis’ name out loud.

He wasn't so sure if anyone else was home yet, so he tried to quiet down and suppress his moans and whimpers from becoming loud. The water being hot and turning his skin pink was the least of his worries. He takes his hand off the wall and pushes his hair that clouded his vision back, then setting his hand back on the wall. Harry glances downward, watching his hand course up and down at a quickened speed, the pink and throbbing head popping out of the foreskin at every deliberate stroke. He knew he's entering a fragile state and there's no going back.

He could feel that he was close, and he cried out another throaty moan. Harry finally reaches his climax, he harshly bites down on his lip, a painful expression writing itself across his face. Come shot onto the wall tiles before him. His labored breathing slowed down as he began to relax. Harry let go of his cock and rinsed the wall off, then turned around and shut off the water. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel off the rack.

Harry stepped out of the bathroom to almost have a heart attack, seeing Louis sitting on his bed. Louis was staring at him, smirking. He heard Harry in the shower, and Harry couldn’t help but be very embarrassed. He continued to stand in the doorway of the bathroom.

“You definitely had a fun shower,” Louis teased, the devious smile remaining on his face. This only irked Harry, but he wouldn’t object. Louis moved his hand down to his groin, pretending to mockingly pump himself up and down, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes, imitating Harry.

“Oh fuck off,” Harry retorted irritably, earning a laugh from Louis. Harry crossed the room over to his closet to get dressed. Louis continued to watch Harry as he dropped the towel on the floor and slid on boxers. Harry could feel that he was watching him, but he couldn’t be bothered to speak up and ask for privacy. He actually didn’t mind. “So I guess this is my life now? Living amongst the dead in a haunted house.”

“You say that with such disdain,” Louis observed. Although Harry seemed comfortable around him, he could tell that that Harry still wasn’t fully accustomed, and was still quite unsettled. He didn’t know how else to make Harry feel fully comfortable, it wasn’t as easy as he predicted it to be. “I could give you some space, if you’d like?”

Harry shook his head. “It wouldn’t make a difference. It would make it worse because I would constantly worry if you’re there.” He slid a t-shirt over his head, heaving a breath and exhaling slowly. “I’ve been searching for a job, so hopefully I’ll be spending more time out of this house.” Harry hesitated to sit down beside him. He scooched over to give more space for Harry to sit down. After all, it was Harry’s bed. Harry decided to sit down, but left a gap between them.

“First you’re trying to snog me, and now you’re distancing yourself?” Louis chided, crossing his arms and staring at Harry incredulously. Louis couldn’t quite figure him out. Harry kept giving him mixed signals, and it began to annoy him.

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged, staring down at the floor. He didn’t know how to give an appropriate response. Regardless that he just jerked off, he was still conflicted. A huge part of him wanted Louis, but another part had remained unsettled and creeped out over the whole ordeal, and told him he shouldn’t. He hadn’t realized that Louis had began to stand up.

“Well, like I said, I’m going to give you space. You seem like you need to deeply consider some decisions, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. Just leave a message for me when you’re ready.” Before Harry could say anything, he disappeared. For the first time, he actually felt alone. He could see that Louis seemed a bit hurt, and it stung him.


	4. IV

_Song for the chapter: Come A Little Closer by Cage The Elephant_

 

George stands by the window, staring out at the neighboring house. His arms are crossed over his chest. His eyes remain unmoved as Harry steps out of the house and closes the door behind him. He proceeds down the steps and towards the walkway leading to the sidewalk.

Spinning around on the balls of his feet, George sees Tanya saunter down the hallway and towards the kitchen. She’s still wearing her nightgown, and her hair is a little disheveled. He follows directly behind her.

She sits down at the table, a steamy, hot mug containing tea in her hand. Tanya grabs a cigarette out of the box, lighting it and placing it between her lips. She hears footsteps approach the entrance to the kitchen, prompting her head to slowly crane upward to see her son enter. He scoffs as soon as he notices that she’s smoking, but she ignores him. He has always despised her consistent smoking tendencies.

“I was unaware we had new neighbors,” he remarks, trying to start a conversation. But he actually didn’t know until now.

She snickers. “It took you this long?” She removes the cigarette from her mouth, holding it between her fingers as she takes a sip of her tea. Tanya cringes as the liquid burns her tongue a bit.

George remains silent, being familiar with his mum’s patronizing habits. The cigarette smoke began to overwhelm him, causing him to take several steps away from the table.

“I’ll give them a few months,” she huffs, bringing the mug down to the table. “But I will be surprised if they last longer than that couple.” She sighs, shaking her head in aversion.

 

* *

 

One solid month had passed by. Harry had resumed back to his life, getting a job and feeling more normal again since he moved in. He hasn’t spoken to or seen Louis since that night, but it didn’t bother him. He often forgot about the conflict that created the friction between them, but it made him feel like a jerk. Nothing paranormal had happened either in the forthcoming weeks, which he didn’t expect. Gemma nor Anne mentioned anything more about the house, as if they hadn’t experienced recently anything either.

Harry slowed down and came to a slow stop as he had been jogging, catching his breath. He pulled his headphones out of his ears and paused his music as he entered through the gate. He proceeded up to the door and unlocked it.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Feeling hungry, he plodded into the kitchen to grab a snack. Hearing footsteps trailing behind him, he slightly turns his head to get a glimpse of bleach blonde hair. He recognized it as his sister’s. She had recently dyed her hair. She stops in her tracks as he opens the refrigerator.

“It’s been unusually quiet around here,” she asserts, trying to imply a certain message that Harry definitely understood.

He shrugged, grabbing an apple and shutting the refrigerator. He considered possible explanations, but quite frankly, she wouldn’t buy them and would become more suspicious. Gemma had already begun to suspect that Harry had done something, judging by how he reacted to her comment.

Harry knew his sister deserved an explanation, but the longer he stood there, it became more difficult and nerve wracking to find one. Regardless if he gave her one or not, she would go sleuthing to find out on her own. He also recognized that it was most likely long overdue that he owed Louis some answers, answers that he hadn’t really put thought into when he should have. He was so deep into thought, he didn’t realize that Gemma was waving a hand in his face. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, with a frown. Gemma had become exhausted of his unusual antics. She knew ever since they moved in, he changed. She remembered who Harry had been before they moved, and she hated to think about it. She was afraid to mention it, only because he realized that he had changed too, and he would blame the house.

“Harry,” she began, “I won’t force you to tell me. But if I could ask for one thing, is to please start acting like my brother. Ever since we moved here, it’s like you’ve become a totally different person. I’m pretty sure mum noticed it too.” Harry heaves a sigh, knowing she was right. He was reluctant to admit it.

“I know,” Harry exhales, “I’m so sorry, Gem. I don’t know why I’ve become such an asshole.” His hand reaches up, rubbing his forehead with his middle and index and middle finger up and down. His arm falls back at his side. “Things are definitely going to change for the best around here,” he mumbles. A half-smile was written across Gemma’s face. Those were words she wanted to hear. “How about we all go out to dinner tonight? Wherever we go I’ll pay.” He watched as his sister’s face lit up. It had been a long time since they had eaten out, especially with some things that have changed.

 

* * *

 

Harry entered his bedroom to undress and change into sleepwear. Because it bugged him all day, he began to consider getting Louis’ attention, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t want to leave notes all over the house, he definitely didn’t want his mum finding out just yet. He pulled sweats out of his closet and put them on, remembering that Gemma’s friend owned a Ouija board. He realized the idea was bloody insane, but as he continued to wrack his brain, he couldn’t think of any other way.

“Oh how do I summon a ghost,” he mumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it in the laundry bin. He put on a plain white t-shirt and started towards the door to ask her. Gemma would think he’s insane, and he knew that she would.

“A ouija board is not necessary.” The recognizable voice stopped Harry in his tracks. His heart felt as if it stopped beating for a split-second. He gulped, and slowly turned in the direction of the voice to see Louis leaning against the door frame of the bathroom with his arms crossed, wearing the same outfit the last time he saw him. Harry couldn’t stop the grin that plastered itself across his face. He didn’t realize how much he missed the shorter lad.

They both took several steps toward each other, and were face to face, with the exception of their height difference. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, engulfing him in a tight hug.

“God I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed you,” Harry vented into his shoulder.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Louis responds, wrapping his arms around Harry. They both stood there for a good minute until Louis decided to let go. Harry followed.

“Listen,” Harry begins, locking his green eyes on Louis’ blue ones, “I apologize. I was being an asshole to not only you, but to my mum and Gemma.”

“Well at least you admitted it,” Louis mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and pressing his lips into a thin line. The longer they stared at each other, the sexual tension between them increased. The emotions that Harry harbored for him returned, and they began to bother him as much as it did last time. Harry began to dip his head downward. Before he could press his lips against Louis’, Louis raspily whispered, “For real this time?”

Harry nodded. “For real.” He pressed his lips against Louis’, and they didn’t stop, unlike the last time. It only intensified. It was the first time Louis actually didn’t feel cold. An erotic warmth surged through him. Louis began to pull Harry’s shirt over his head, and Harry tried to do the same but Louis stopped him. They both began to inch towards the bed.

Harry dipped his head down towards Louis’ neckline, leaving sporadic kisses all over and occasionally sucking. Harry suddenly remembered that he hadn’t closed his door. He lifted his head up and twisted in the direction of the door to see a bleach blonde head peeking in. He grunted, stepping backward.

Louis awkwardly stood there as he watched Harry step towards the door. He could feel the jeans become uncomfortable around his groin, his boner being suppressed behind the tight fabric. Harry tried to hide the growing boner in his sweats as he approached his sister with a scowl.

“I wanted to ask you a question, but it appears you already answered it,” she says bashfully, stepping backward from Harry’s frustrated disposition. “But I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your moment.” Before Harry could say anything, she closes the door for him and hurries away. Harry spins back around and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Well that ruined it,” he mumbled, placing his hands on his hips and frowning. Louis took a step backward, sitting on Harry’s bed. Harry sat down beside him and heaved a sigh. As much as Harry wanted to continue, they couldn’t. Once he’s interrupted, he loses his momentum.

“I could suck you off?” Louis offered to make up for it, but he earned a snicker from Harry.

“Nah.” Harry paused, a curious thought struck him, it was probably a rhetorical question anyway. “Just wondering, have you ever done anything sexual with a guy, before?” Harry continued to gaze at Louis, waiting for a response.

Louis hesitated, because his answer was “no”. He shook his head. Harry figured he only had experience with the opposite sex, which didn’t faze him.

“You have a lot to learn,” he indicated, setting his hand on Louis’ thigh. Harry glanced back at his clock, not realizing how late it had gotten. He also didn’t realize how knackered he was. “Well, I’m knackered,” he yawned. “I’m going to brush my teeth and head to sleep.” Harry stood up and plodded into the bathroom.

Louis shifted backward and leaned against the headboard, beside Harry’s pillow and waited for him to come back out.

“Were you seriously going to use a Ouija board?” Louis snickers as Harry steps out of the bathroom. He attempted to hold himself back from laughing. Harry could feel his cheeks flush, embarrassed.

“Maybe,” he responds, avoiding Louis’ gaze. Louis crossed his arms, shaking his head and giving a look of disapproval.

“And you say I have a lot to learn,” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. Harry lifted the duvet up and slid his legs underneath. His head crashed against the pillow. The exhaustion finally began to kick in. He glanced up with heavy eyes at Louis who sat beside him.

“So, are you going to sit there the whole night and watch me sleep?” Harry sneers, changing the subject. Louis smirks, but shakes his head.

“No. That’s just creepy.” He swings his legs over onto the hardwood floor. “See you in the morning.” Harry’s eyelids became heavy, and they eventually shut over his eyes.

 

*

 

Harry’s eyes slowly, tiredly peeled open to the morning daylight that poured into his room through the sheer curtains. He turned over on his side, expecting Louis to be there, but the space beside him was absent. He remembered telling him not to sit there and wait for him to wake up due to the mere heart-attack it almost gave him.

He sat upward, scanning his room. Something didn’t feel right to him, Louis’ absence was odd and unexpected. Harry pushed the duvet back and swung his legs over onto the floor and stood up. He meandered over to the door and swung it open, proceeding down the hallway and down the staircase.

His foot froze on the bottom step, hearing recognizable voices coming from the kitchen. One was his mum, and the other took him by complete surprise. Louis. He rushed into the kitchen, and came to an abrupt halt. Anne was sat at the table, holding a mug in her hand, Louis leaned against the island with his arms crossed. Harry wasn’t so keen on the idea of his mum knowing yet. He gulped, at a loss of words.

“Y-you know?” he finally manages to muster, and she nods.

“Harry,” she begins, “I’m not as oblivious as you think I am.” He wondered if Gemma had outed them from last night. But he doubted his sister would do such a thing.

“Did Gemma say anything?”

She shakes her head.

“No.” Anne wonders what Harry meant, but she chooses not to ask and to stay on topic. She figured it was best she didn’t know anyway. “I already had my suspicions when you two were out in the backyard and Louis suddenly disappeared. But when you were out the one time, I caught him lurking around, and he did try to escape.”

Harry was surprised that his mum didn’t seem the least bit uneasy and disturbed. If she was, she’s pretty good at hiding it. But Harry knew his mum, he continued to gape at her, trying to see past the facade she’s presenting. It wasn’t that hard for him to see past her smile, how tense and uneasy she felt. Harry couldn’t blame her.

Louis smiles and indicates for Harry to come over. Harry reluctantly steps toward him, and he wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Your mum is very lovely,” he remarks, still holding the smile. “We’ve been talking the whole time you’ve been asleep.” Harry began to wonder what they were talking about. “And before you ask, just mundane things. I didn’t get to properly introduce myself either, last time.”

Now since Louis has met Harry’s family, Harry was curious about his family. He began to ponder when Louis was going to introduce him. Now since they were getting quite close, he figured it was time. Louis glanced at Harry, noticing he seems like he has something on his mind. Before he could ask, Harry took the initiative.

“So when are you going to introduce me to your family?”

Louis seemed hesitant to Harry to answer the question. He knew that his mum wasn’t so comfortable with making an appearance around the living. His sisters on the other hand, were indifferent about it. He shrugged.

“When the time is right. I’ll have to talk to them, first.”

Harry could see his hesitance, and it only made him curious, however he chose not to ask. Louis lifted his arm up from around Harry and let it fall back at his side.

Harry reentered his room to get dressed. He didn’t realize that Louis was following him. He didn’t turn around, and only proceeded over to his closet. He opened his closet door and reached in, sorting through clothes. Harry felt chilly arms snake themselves around his waist. He slightly turned his head back, getting a glimpse of Louis.

“Why don’t you stay and hang out with me?” He stood on his toes to rest his head on Harry’s shoulders.

Harry shook his head. “I can’t. Unlike you, I have a life and responsibilities.”

“And I totally respect that,” Louis responded, “but not even for a little while?” He unwrapped his arms from Harry’s waist and stepped backward as Harry drew out clothes from his closet.

“Look,” Harry exhaled heavily, “It’s not my fault that you’re bored and have nothing else to do. I’ve got other shit to do than dawdle.” He watched how Louis’ face fell, he knew he came off too harsh. “Sorry,” Harry apologized, “Too harsh, I know.” He continued to get dressed, regardless of Louis’ presence. Louis sat back down on Harry’s bed, processing a risky question.

“You did say I have a lot to learn.” Harry snapped his attention up to him, remembering last night.

“Have you ever wanked?” Harry had to get through the basic questions first, only to get an idea where where to start with him.

“Yes.” Louis’ voice was mousy, but he didn’t show any sign of hesitance or embarrassment. “But not in a very long time.”

“Have you watched porn?”

“No,” Louis retorted, giving Harry a look.

Harry chuckled, sitting down beside him. Needless to say, he didn’t expect any other response. Louis continued to gaze at Harry, who seemed like he was deep into thought.

“Maybe later, if I remember,” Harry whispered, leaning in and softly placing his lips on Louis’. “If I’m going to be honest, I think you’re the only one keeping me sane in this house.” He giggled, breaking away from the kiss. Louis didn’t find any humor in the joke. He was always pretty serious about anything involving the house. Harry noticed that Louis didn’t crack a smile, and kept a straight face. “What?” He leaned away, his smile fading.

“Harry,” he began, breaking his gaze away from Harry and turning it down to the floor. “I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but there are evils that lurk in this house. Nobody is ever safe here. If I’m going to be blunt, I’m surprised you haven’t been having delusions, sleepwalking, or hearing voices yet.” His dismal eyes met Harry’s.

Harry felt himself shudder, feeling the words sink in. A faint memory from the time he talked to Tanya began to revisit him. He remembered as he climbed the staircase hearing faint voices in his ear.

“I have heard voices,” Harry spoke, almost inaudibly. “They were tiny. Telling me I’m going to die.”

Louis only frowned, and didn’t say anything. It only reminded him of the voices he used to hear and the other shuddersome experiences he had when he was alive. He only worried about Harry, even though there isn’t much he can do.

“You need to be careful,” Louis uttered. “Just because nothing has happened lately, doesn’t you’re completely safe.”

Harry gulped. He began to grow uncomfortable again. He was finally getting adjusted to living here and the more Louis spoke, the more it returned. The dark and dismal subject affected Harry’s mood. He wasn’t motivated as much anymore. But he knew he had to get to work.

“I have to go.” Harry stood up and started towards the door and didn’t stop. He was a bit fazed that Louis wasn’t following him, but not enough to turn around and check on the lad. He knew that Louis was only trying to help, but it did the opposite. Each step he took, he quickened his speed until he reached the bottom step. He peered behind him, there was a chance that Louis was following, but nobody was there. He proceeded towards the door.

 

* * *

 

Gemma strolled into the living room. Dusty lay on the couch, her body stretched across the cushion. She watched Gemma walk over and sat down beside her. Gemma had planned to attend a friend’s party, but since it started pouring, the party had been cancelled and moved to a later date.

She laid her hand on the black patch on Dusty’s flur, stroking back and forth. The cat began to purr softly, and she rolled over onto her back.

Dusty’s head instantly turned away from Gemma and she meowed. Gemma withdrew her hand as the cat’s tail began to whip back and forth, signaling that she was unhappy. She looked in the direction Dusty was staring, but nothing was there. She knew that she was home alone, and the house was silent. Not a noise to be heard except for the cat.

“Dusty,” she whispered, trying to get the cat’s attention, but the cat remained in its position and wouldn’t budge. Dusty positioned herself on her hind legs, and began to hiss and swat. Bewildered, Gemma continued to watch the cat. She didn’t know what to do, it started to freak her out. Before she could do anything, the cat jumped off the couch and bolted out of the room.

She stood up and followed Dusty. The cat couldn’t have gone far, but she disappeared. She continued to search, but couldn’t find her. Now she was more curious than ever.

She decided to quit, the cat obviously didn’t want to be found. Gemma tiredly plodded back into the living room and crashed on the couch. She grabbed the remote controller and flicked on the television.

The television shuts off a few seconds later, which puzzles her. She doesn’t try to turn it back on. Instead she chooses to leave the room and head upstairs to take a bath.

Gemma starts to draw the bath. She waits for the tub to fill up with water. The air in the room began to become steamy and hot. She feels eyes on her as she starts to undress, causing her to spin around. To her dismay nobody was in the room. She resumes, slowly removing each piece of clothing. She could feel herself become uncomfortable, but tried not to let the feeling affect her too much. Gemma knew she had to be paranoid.

She spins around again, this time in the direction of the mirror above the sink. Her breath hitches in her throat, stepping towards the mirror which had several words traced on the water vapor that covered the mirror.

“ _Nice tits, babe_ ”

She continues to gape at the mirror, feeling disgust and also repulsed.

“Whoever is there, leave me the fuck alone,” she blurts out. She understands she probably looks stupid, speaking to nothing - well nothing she could see. But being so furious and also disgusted, Gemma couldn’t care less. She wasn’t going to let this stop her from taking a bath and relaxing. She deserved the time to herself.

 

*

 

Louis sat at the edge of Harry’s bed, by his feet underneath the duvet in the darkened room. Harry had been deeply asleep for awhile now, and Louis felt it was best for him to leave his room. There was no point in staying. He glanced downward at Harry’s sleeping figure, and his lips curved upward. He stood up and walked towards the door, slowly pulling it open wider, so it doesn’t creak. He proceeded down the hallway and descended the staircase.

When he returned, Harry hadn’t paid him much attention. Louis blamed the conversation earlier, and if he hadn’t reminded Harry of what he was trying to overcome, Harry wouldn’t have been so distant with him tonight. But he knew he didn’t have a choice, he had to make sure Harry was aware of the misfortunes this house bears.

Hypnotically and unconscious, Harry sat up and pushed the duvet back. He swung his legs over onto the floor and stood up, continuing towards the door. He sleepwalked down the hallway and staircase.

Louis heard footsteps on the staircase. He turned around to see an unconscious Harry marching downward. Harry stepped down onto the floor and proceeded towards the kitchen.

“Shit,” Louis cursed under his breath, following closely behind Harry to wake him up. Harry came to a halt at the knives drawer. He slides the drawer open and thumbs through the different knives and their sharpness.

Louis rushes over to him as he picks up a steak knife. He could feel the trauma begin to punch him in the stomach, and making him begin to panic, but he was determined to try to overcome it in order to save him. The trauma wasn’t ever easy to overcome, the haunting memory was still fresh in his mind, regardless of how long ago the devastating event occurred.

“Harry,” Louis whispered, reaching to grab the knife out of his hand. Harry deliberately strikes Louis’ arm with the knife, drawing a line of blood. He jerked his arm away and winced in pain.

Harry suddenly snaps himself out of the hypnotic state. Seeing the bloody knife in his hand, he jumps backward, dropping the knife and covering his mouth with his hand. The knife clattered as it hit the floor, blood splattering.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasps, his eyes falling on Louis and wandering down to his bloody arm. “I’m so, so sorry.” As much as he attempted to, he couldn’t remember anything - how he ended up in the kitchen holding a knife. This is exactly what Louis had warned him about.

“It’s not your fault,” Louis mutters, staring down at the bloody wound on his arm with disdain and sighing.

“I’ll get you a bandage.”

“There’s no need,” Louis shook his head.

Harry looked at him dubiously, but Louis held up his arm and the wound was instantly gone. Including the blood. Harry gaped at him incredulously.

Louis laughed at Harry’s look of disbelief.

“You always continue to surprise me,” Harry snickers.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Louis said, “But for now you should go and get your sleep.”

“Thanks for being there for me,” Harry whispered, engulfing him in a tight hug. “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here to wake me up.”

Louis forms an uneasy smile, but doesn’t say anything. Harry unwraps his arms from around Louis’ smaller frame and turns and starts back to his bedroom.

“Goodnight.” Harry didn’t know how to thank him. The longer he thought about it as he continued walking, the more grateful he became.

Louis grabs a paper towel off the rack, wets it with warm water and crouches down. He grabs the knife and cleans the blood off the floor with the paper towel. He washes and dries off the blade of the knife then sticks it back in the drawer.

*

Harry yawns, propping himself up against his headboard. Louis climbs onto his bed, plopping down beside him.

“You were right,” Harry uttered, looking up at him and frowning. “There is something vile this house holds.” His eyes broke contact with Louis’ and fell down to the duvet. “I just didn’t expect that to happen.” He shudders, a queasy feeling increasing in the pit of his stomach. Harry feared his mum finding out, she was already unsettled about the ghost predicament.

The atmosphere surrounding them grew dreary and ominous, to the point Louis even became unnerved. He snaked his hand towards Harry’s, interlocking their hands together in hope to calm him down. Harry immediately tore his hand away, stunning Louis.

“I can’t.” Harry shook his head, turning his back to him and throwing his legs over onto the floor. He swallowed hard, unable to get over the event that continued to haunt him. He hated to return to square one, where he had been a month ago that led to Louis having to give him space because he still was so unnerved about the house. Their relationship finally began to progress, and now to Harry it felt like it began to shatter.

Out of his peripheral vision, Louis appeared beside him. Harry began to stand up, Louis grabbed his arm. Harry tried to wriggle his arm out of his strong grasp. He had the strength to yank his arm out of Louis’ grasp, but to his dismay, he couldn’t find it.

“Sit,” Louis instructed, trying to pull Harry back. Reluctant to comply, Harry slowly sat back down and pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to make eye contact. He didn’t let go of Harry’s arm, knowing he would run if he did. “We’re not going back to square one,” Louis asserts, “I understand how you feel. I was there once too, but you can’t let the house get to you. It’s what it wants.” Louis exhales deeply before continuing and reaching a rocky path that was either going to create a positive or negative reaction. “Harry,” he began, hesitating to continue, “I love you.”

Harry finally found the missing strength and ripped his arm out of the tightened grasp Louis had on him. He felt the queasy feeling that began to finally die down begin to intensify again. He exhaled a shaky breath.

“No.” He shook his head, his voice quivering. “Please don’t.” Harry stood up and ran towards the bathroom. He crouched down towards the toilet bowl and lifted the lid up. Vomit rushed up his throat and poured out of his mouth into the bowl. He scowled in disgust, seeing his breakfast floating around below him. He reached his arm up and flushed the toilet, then sitting back against the bathtub and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry realized that he was overreacting, he couldn’t figure why Louis’ confession triggered him this badly.

Louis’ shoes appeared in the doorway. Harry turned his head up to see him step in and crouch down to his eyelevel. Louis sighed, holding a somber face, and Harry could feel his heart break.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis apologized. “I know I shouldn’t have.” He paused, a heart wrenching silence hung in the air between them. Louis situated himself, sitting down beside Harry, propping his knees up and setting his arms down on his kneecaps. “It’s wrong. I mean, I’m dead for fucks sake.” He began to mess with the mat below, pulling the threads out deliberately. “A wandering soul with no real purpose. We’re not supposed to be happy.” Louis’ caustic words and use of a scathing tone cut so deep Harry was rendered speechless. Louis turned to Harry, keeping the unhappy scowl. “I’ll leave you alone permanently, if it’s what you want.”

Without thinking, Harry fully turned his body and leaned towards Louis, pressing his lips against Louis’, taking him completely off-guard. Harry grasped his cheek as their lips moved in sync. Louis could taste the vomit from Harry’s tongue, and his face shriveled in disgust, but he didn’t retreat.

After a long few minutes, Harry broke away and retracted, leaning back against the tub. He inhaled a massive breath and exhaled.

“I didn’t mean to overreact earlier as much as I did,” Harry mutters. “I guess I was still shaken up about everything.”

“I understand,” Louis said, trying not to gag with the foul, acidic taste on his tongue. He stood up and rinsed his mouth on in the sink. Harry directly followed him, his face twisting in revulsion as he tasted the vomit.

Louis stood back up straight, grabbing a tissue out of the box and drying his mouth and chin off of the water. He tossed the wet tissue in the trashcan.

“Don’t you have work?” he asks Harry, who shakes his head. He leans back up, shutting off the faucet and grabbing a tissue.

“I’m off today.” He tosses the wet tissue in the trashcan and turns back around to walk back into his room. Louis follows him. Harry grabs his laptop and turns the screen up, he situates himself against his headboard. Louis settles down beside him.

“You know, maybe we could…-”

“I’m not in the mood,” Harry cuts him off, knowing exactly what he was implying. Harry looks at him apologetically. “Maybe if that fiasco never happened last night I would be willing to.” The door creaked open. Harry’s head jolted up from his laptop to see Dusty enter his room. He heaved a sigh of relief, glad that it wasn’t _anything else_. The cat meowed, jumped up onto the bed and meandered towards Harry.

Louis remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the cat that avoided him like the plague. Harry noticed how he hasn’t moved a muscle since Dusty hopped up onto his bed.

“Are you allergic to cats or something?” Harry quips, teasing his disposition toward the cat that now sat between them. He begins to scratch her head and moves to the back of her ears, which she enjoyed.

Louis frowns. “I don’t think your cat likes me.”

Harry shrugs. He remembers when she started growling at nothing.

“It must be a cat thing. Having a certain temperament for the dead or something like that.” Louis slowly lifted his hand up, laying it on Dusty’s back. The cat bolted upright, unnerved. Louis withdrew his hand. Harry attempted to calm her down to get her to stay, but she began to turn around to leave.

A massive crash sound was heard from downstairs. Harry jumped, immediately setting his laptop on the duvet and dashing out of his room to investigate. He bolted down the staircase faster than he could imagine. He entered the kitchen to see shards of glass strewn all over the floor. Anne stood in the center of all the glass, horrified.

“What happened?” Harry ran towards his mum, who remained stunned and motionless. She gapes down at the glass on the floor.

“I-I don’t know,” she stammers. “I was trying to make tea and something strange came over me, next thing I knew glass was scattered all over the floor in pieces.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, grabbing the dustpan out of the closet and crouching down to clean the glass up.

Anne nods, but displays an uncertainty. She steps away from the glass. He dumps the glass in the trashcan.

“Can you tell me what it felt like?” Harry could only wonder if she had an episode similar to his last night, and that’s what made him begin to worry.

“It was as if my mind completely froze - unconscious.”

He could see the terrified look on his mum’s face, and he hated to see his mum look so frightened. It made him anxious. Harry wrapped his arms around her to calm her down, he rubs circles on her back.

“I think I’m going to go out,” she says, unwrapping her arms from around her son. Harry follows and stands back up straight. He understood that his mum must be quite unnerved and anxious, he could empathize with her. “You’re welcome to come with if you’d like to get out of this eerie house too for the day.” She collects her handbag and starts for the door. She turns around again before opening the door. Harry could see the regret in her eyes of moving into this house, but she was afraid to admit it.

“Nah, I think you need some alone time,” Harry insists. He steps onto the bottom step of the staircase.

Anne opens the door and gives her son a look, knowing he was making an excuse to stay and hang out with Louis. She doesn’t say anything, however.

Harry continues up the staircase as she walks out the door. He decides whether to follow his mum and head out too. He enters his room to see Louis standing by the door, almost as if he was eavesdropping.

“Is your mum alright?” he asks, concerned.

“As if you weren’t there the whole time,” Harry scoffs, advancing over to his closet to get dressed to go to the gym. By now he knew Louis pretty well, and Harry doubted that he stayed in his room the whole time. Louis, stunned and unimpressed by Harry’s sharp response, crossed his arms and scowled.

“I didn’t think you wanted me there with your mum all frightened and spooked.” Louis knew that he was correct, regardless if Harry acknowledged him or not. Harry tightened the grey shorts around his waist and grabbed a drawstring bag he usually takes with him to the gym. “Now where are you going?” Louis regards him with curiosity.

“The gym,” Harry responds, grabbing his phone off his bedside table. “There’s only one way I can iron out the stress and anxiety right now.” He tore his gaze away from Louis, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Especially with what just happened to my mum. I think I’ll implode if I don’t get out of this house today.” Harry starts for the door.

“I’m sorry for what happened to your mum,” Louis apologizes, as Harry steps towards the door. Harry comes to a halt and slightly turns back to Louis who had stepped closer to him.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry says, a hint of disdain in his voice. He tears his gaze away towards the door. “You can’t control them.” He swings the door open and steps out into the hallway. Louis decided not to follow Harry, believing it’s best not to at the moment.

Harry grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator and turned around to leave.

 

*

 

Louis stepped through the door that led to the basement, and proceeded down the cement staircase. Anger had begun boiling inside him ever since the event with Harry’s mum. He knew exactly who to blame, the sad part is Louis knew that he would be terrorizing Harry’s family. He stepped down onto the cement floor and turned to see Seth leaning against the pole with his arms crossed, a cocky smirk plastered across his face, only inciting Louis’ anger to amplify. Louis deliberately advanced towards him, grabbing his shirt collar and thrusting him up against the wall.

“You fucking twat!” he roared, tightening the grip on Seth’s collar, keeping his back pressed to the wall. Seth could highly likely undermine Louis’ strength, but the thought didn’t cross Louis’ mind. Seth only chuckled as Louis rambled on. “I swear to God, if you go near Harry and his family again-”

“You’ll do what?” Seth sneers, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Kill me? I’m already dead. It’s not like they’ve told me to go away or anything, either.”

“They shouldn’t have to,” Louis seethes. “I have had to deal with you for over twenty years. I’m putting my foot down, and I will not allow you to fuck this up for me.” He begins to loosen the grip on Seth’s collar to let him down. Louis exhales deeply and begins to turn around to leave. Seth snickers again.

“I never thought you were a faggot.”

Louis whips back around, if he had any body heat, his palms would be sweaty, and he would feel his face become hotter from the amount of fury building up inside him. The derogatory word stung severely. His hand encloses around Seth’s throat, thrusting him against the wall so hard he grimaced as his head crashed against it. This was as violent as he was going to get. He wasn’t going to stoop down to Seth’s level. Louis leans in towards his face, their noses centimeters apart.

“I’m proud of who I am,” he chides, and leans away. “In fact, you can call me a faggot all you want, it won’t change anything.” Louis’ lips curve upward.

“Louis.” He hears his mum’s voice from afar, making him jump out of his own skin. Louis loosens the grip around Seth’s throat and his hand falls back at his side. Seth begins to relax again. Louis presses his lips into a thin line as he turns in the direction of the voice. Johannah stands ten feet away with her arms crossed, disappointed in her son. Louis briefly glances back to Seth to see that he vanished.

“Sorry,” he mutters, sheepishly. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”

“Is it that hard to ignore him?”

“Yes,” he says, avoiding her stern gaze, crossing his arms and keeping a straight face.

“Look,” she begins, taking a step towards Louis. “I know you love Harry, but you need to understand that they will move out eventually, regardless if it’s the cause of Seth or anyone or anything else. I’m afraid you’re going to get too attached to him and end up getting your heart broken.”

Louis sighs, reluctant to admit that his mum was right. It was a harsh truth that he refused to face up to until now.

“I know.” His voice was mousy. He briefly makes eye contact with her, his eyes then dropping down to the cement.

 

* * *

 

Harry stepped through the doorway. He closed the door behind him and proceeded upstairs to take a shower because he feels grungy and sweaty from being at the gym all day. He had gotten something to eat after leaving the gym, so he didn’t plan on coming back downstairs.

He threw his phone onto his bed and the drawstring bag down on the floor, then tore off his shirt, beginning to undress. The potent odor of sweat embodied him, which made him eager to get in the shower and become clean. Harry stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water, it poured out of the faucet and began to heat up.

 

He turned off the torrid water and grabbed a towel off the rack. He stepped out of the tub and dried his hair then wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked back into his room to get dressed. Harry felt too exhausted to do anything else, he wanted to just crash onto his bed and never get up for the entire night. All the unnecessary stress from today had placed a strain on him, he never felt so drained before.

He turned around from his closet stroll back to his bed and to grab his phone. To his dismay, it was missing from the exact place it had been before. Harry rolled his eyes, it wasn’t the best time for him to keep up with Louis’ antics.

“You won’t be able to unlock it because you don’t know my passcode,” Harry says, advancing towards the bathroom again to brush his teeth. He was at the point where he didn’t care that he looked odd talking out loud to an empty room. Nothing was normal for him anymore. “Just please don’t lock me out by typing in random numbers.”

Harry exited the bathroom and crashed onto his bed. He lifted up the duvet and slid his legs underneath. Out of nowhere, his phone flew toward him and landed right onto his groin, forcing him to hunch over and groan, grimacing in pain.

“So sorry.” He heard Louis say, as he appeared five feet away. “I didn’t expect it to land there.” Harry exhales, feeling the pain finally begin to slowly diminish. He scoffs, shaking his head. He picks up his phone and turns it on to see that it had been disabled for sixty minutes. Harry’s eyes flick over to Louis, scowling and glaring at him.

“You don’t like to listen, do you?” Harry sets his phone on his nightstand, and could see the expression on Louis’ face fall. “Don’t apologize again.” Harry speaks up before Louis could apologize again. He wasn’t in the mood for this, Louis only shortened his patience. Harry fell backward and his head against the pillow.

“Well, you obviously want to be left alone, so I’ll leave you alone.” Louis observed how short tempered Harry had become, but he blamed himself, knowing he should have had a different approach.

“No, stay.” Harry sat back up, stopping him before he could leave. He gestured to the spot next to him. Harry felt bad for scaring him away. Bemused, Louis hesitantly collapsed onto Harry’s bed, beside him. He scooched closer to Harry, feeling a boner suddenly grow in his jeans. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but Harry glanced down Louis’ body to see his jeans risen a bit. Harry leaned in to take a closer glimpse of the growing outline.

“May I?” he asks, stunning Louis. Louis nods and tries to hold back his lips from curving upward.

“I’m not stopping you.” He unzips his jeans-Harry’s jeans that he lent him. Harry slides his hand underneath the boxers and grasps Louis’ hard cock, and pulls his boxers down with the other hand. Harry wraps his hand around it, and begins to pump, the head popping out of the foreskin as his hand coursed up and down the thick length that continued to stiffen in his large hand. Louis sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, rolling his head back onto the pillow. He couldn't remember the last time he had been given a blow job or a hand job.


	5. V

_**1988** _

  

There were several knocks on the front door that echoed noisily. Louis beat one of his sisters to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open to see Brandi standing there, sullen.

“Hi, Brandi,” he says, his smile fades as soon as he noticed how upset she seemed. “Is there something wrong?”

She nods. “Can we talk? Alone?” She swallows back the lump in her throat as she asks the question.

“Sure.” He steps outside, immediately feeling the cool, Autumn weather. Louis follows her to her car. He sits down in the passenger seat while she’s in the driver’s seat.

“I’m moving,” Brandi begins, trying to hold herself together. Before he could ask where, she continues, “To Wisconsin. My parents are forcing me to go, they won't let me stay and keep the house.”

He could feel his heart drop, knowing what this meant. He didn't know what to say, being rendered speechless.

“I don't know what to say,” Louis mutters, breaking eye contact, his eyes dropping to the floor. This wasn't the news he wanted to hear. He was taken very aback by it, considering why he didn’t know what to say.

“I don't want to make this harder than it looks,” she mumbles, twisting her body towards him. He looks back up at her. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand hand that began to fall from her tear duct. She places her hand in his. “I love you, and I will make every effort to come back and visit.” Brandi leans in, fully kissing him on the lips. They both remained lip-locked for a minute in a half, then Louis decides to break away.

“So, what did Brandi want?” Johannah asks, as Louis slams the door shut behind him. She appears in the entrance to the kitchen.

“She's moving,” he grumbles, frowning. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Where to?” she asks, stepping towards him. Judging by how afflicted he seemed, it had to be far.

“To America. Wisconsin.”

Her face fell, a somber ambience settling in the room. “That’s very far,” she remarks, frowning. “But everything happens for a reason, though. There are other girls out there, Lou. You just haven’t met the right one yet.”

“I know,” Louis exhales, his sad eyes meeting his mum’s. “I’m just afraid people like her only come once in a lifetime.”

 

* * * * *

 

_**Present Day** _

 

Harry sat in the living room, flipping through the channels and landing on Britain’s Got Talent. Louis’ head lies across Harry's lap, his body is stretched out across the couch. He cranes his neck, hearing the sounds from the television.

“What's this?” Louis asks, curious, never seeing the TV programme before. A young girl walked onto a stage holding a microphone and the camera flipped to a panel of judges. By inferring as he gazed at the screen, he started to get an idea.

“It's Britain’s Got Talent,” Harry says, setting the remote beside him on the arm of the couch. “People audition in front of a panel of judges, showing off their special talent in hope to become famous.” Louis leaned upward, situating himself beside Harry to watch the girl perform. Harry lifted his other arm up and wrapped it around Louis’ shoulders.

The girl reminded him of Brandi, she looked like her. He couldn't help but feel a bit of sadness inside him.

The sound of the front door unlocking and opening snapped Louis out of his thoughts. Louis and Harry both craned their necks to see Gemma step inside and close the door behind her. She shrugged off her jacket, noticing them in the living room.

“You two are so attached at the hip,” she snickers. Even though she was happy for her brother, she couldn't help but find it a little creepy because Louis wasn't even a living person, he was a trapped spirit. She couldn’t figure out how Harry was okay with it, he had to be at least a tad uncomfortable.

“I see nothing wrong with that,” Harry responds to Gemma’s little attempt to tease them. She chooses not to respond, and proceeds into the kitchen.

“I just realized,” Louis begins, turning his head to look at Harry, “Halloween is approaching.” According to Celtic folklore, Halloween is known as the day where the dead can walk freely. Louis, along with everyone else long for that day every passing year. This year, Louis hoped he and Harry could plan something for the day.

“Since it’s the only day you’re not tied to this house, do you have anything in mind?” Harry asks, tearing his eyes away from the television to Louis, who shrugged.

“Nothing yet,” Louis responds, shaking his head. “You?”

“Maybe.” A sly, mischievous smile curves upward on Harry’s face. Louis understood what Harry was implying, but Harry obviously wanted to keep it a surprise. It made Louis more eager and excited.

Harry remembered asking Louis when he was going to meet his family, and he wondered why Louis was so reluctant when answering the question. There had to be a reason why he’s so reluctant.

“When are you going to introduce me to your family?” Harry asks, “You’ve met mine.”

Louis shrugs. “I don’t know...soon. But if you’re curious, they are very fond of you. You don't have anything to worry about.” His lips curve upward into a reassuring smile.

*

Once he was finished his dinner, Harry set down his fork on his now empty plate, starting to stand up and set his dirty plate in the dishwasher.

“Harry,” Anne spoke up, setting her fork down, “Can I talk to you?” She indicated for him to sit back down. Gemma gaped at her mum, curious what this was about. Judging by the expression on her face and how she spoke, Gemma guessed it had to be serious. Knowing her mum so well, she always knew when the topic is supposed to be serious and austere. “I’ve noticed you have become very intimate with Louis. In fact, I’m happy that you’ve found someone, but you need to understand that it’s unrealistic.”

Harry listened to his mum speak, even though she tried to present herself to be, she didn’t sound very comfortable with the idea of Harry and Louis together. He didn’t want to hear her truthful words that hurt, but he knew he had to bear this talk sooner or later.

“Obviously we’re not going to live here forever. Eventually, you and Gemma will move out and start your lives, maybe even be starting a family. I might find someone and he could ask us to move in,” Anne paused, quickly debating whether to continue onto the risky sentence. “If I’m going to be blunt, I’d prefer you not devote your life to someone who isn’t even alive. But I won’t force you to do anything. It’s your life and your choices, Harry.” Anne worried about her son, he was a bright individual who has so much potential. Instead, he mucks around with Louis almost all the time.

Anne’s words cut Harry deep he was rendered speechless. He knew she was right, but he was afraid to admit it. He guessed him having a job wasn’t enough for her. Without a word, he stood up, set his plate in the dishwasher and left the room.

“Is everything alright?” His head snaps in the direction of Louis’ voice. He was sat on the third step up from the bottom on the staircase, gazing up at Harry, curious. Louis hadn’t been listening to the whole conversation, he only heard the last sentence. He could only infer what the conversation was about.

Harry nods. “Yeah.” His voice was laced with uncertainty, however he didn’t want Louis to see through him and realize that there was something wrong. Louis stands up, and Harry starts up the staircase.

Harry’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. He drew it out as he entered his room to see a text from his other mate, Ianto. He was planning a party this upcoming Saturday and invited Harry. Beside Luke, Harry had rarely talked to and hasn’t seen his mates since before he moved, so he was thrilled about the party. Louis wandered over to his music albums and stereo as Harry rsvp’d.

“Like I said before, you have an interesting taste in music,” Louis muttered, reading the names of the unfamiliar artists. Some of the artists he’s heard before when he’s been able to leave the house, and Harry occasionally played some of their music. Harry tossed his phone onto his bed and meandered over to Louis.

“You’re probably familiar with The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Van Halen, David Bowie, and Blondie,” Harry assumes.  

He nods, signaling that Harry was correct. “It was a different time,” Louis mumbles, “The music was so different compared to today’s. But from what I’ve heard, it’s not that bad.”

Harry turns to him. “Would you like me to play something for you?” He begins to search for an artist that he hasn’t played yet. He pulls out _Viva La Vida Or Death and All His Friends_ by Coldplay and opens the case and slides the disc into his stereo. He presses the ‘play’ button and the first song begins.

Harry beckons Louis to turn towards him. “Dance with me,” he insists, lifting his arms up and setting them on his hips. Without any objection, Louis freely lifts his arms up and wraps them around the nape of Harry’s neck. Their feet move in sync as they sway back and forth and around in a circle.

“Aw, you guys are so cute,” a female voice squealed, startling Louis and Harry. They both simultaneously broke apart and turned in the direction of the voice to see Félicité standing by the door, as if she just entered and tried not to make herself known until now.

“Well, Harry,” Louis began, exhaling, “Meet Félicité.” He lifts his arm up, gesturing towards her. Harry tried to understand what he was implying, she was his sister.

“What an awkward time that we meet,” Harry huffs, stifling a snicker.

Louis rolls his eyes, irked that she had been eavesdropping on them. He could only wonder what else she had seen of them in the past, and hoped it wasn’t _too_ much.

“How long have you been standing there?” he demands, crossing his arms over his chest, holding a look of disapproval.

“Not long, actually,” she says, “I heard music, and I was curious. But I’ll leave you two alone, I apologize for interrupting your little moment.” She swung the door open again and left before Louis could say anything else like he had planned to. He spun towards Harry.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. He felt responsible for his siblings, and what had just happened. He started to feel guilty.

Harry shrugs, giving a dismissive wave. “You don’t need to apologize,” he insists. “It’s not your fault, you can’t control them.” Harry pauses the music and turns off the stereo.

Louis surveys Harry’s room, remembering the faint memory of how this used to be his bedroom.

“It’s crazy how this used to be my bedroom,” he mumbles, grabbing Harry’s attention as he ejects the disc and set it back in the plastic case.

“Is that so?” Harry cranes his neck back to see Louis as he returns the album to its place. Louis nods as Harry stands back up straight and turns toward him.

“Yeah. It feels like yesterday.” Louis continued to stand there, reminiscing in his memories as he looks around. Bad memories started to cloud the good ones, and he quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, turning back to Harry. “Anyway…”

 

* * * * *

 

Brandi followed Louis up the staircase, to his bedroom. It had become impossible to attain privacy downstairs with his siblings constantly around. He also felt awkward and uncomfortable. He led her down the hallway and opened the door, stepping into his room with her closely behind him. Brandi thoughtlessly left the door open a sliver.

“Now, where were we,” she mutters, setting her arms on his shoulders and wrapping them around the nape of his neck. She leans in, pushing her lips against his. They begin to inch towards his bed. Brandi’s hand traveled down to his groin, quickly grasping it to tease him, then she grabbed the hem of Louis’ shirt and began to pull it up and over his head. They both simultaneously fell backward and crashed onto the duvet.

Louis situated himself, leaning against the headboard. Brandi followed him, while her hand trailed down to the buttons and zipper on his jeans. While she placed her lips back onto his, she carefully pulled the button out of the hole and the zipper down, her hand snaking down underneath his boxers.

He felt her hand grab his cock, and he started to become tense, goosebumps rose all over his skin and the hairs on the nape of his neck rose. Brandi began to pull it upward and out of his boxers, feeling it begin to harden in her hand. She glanced back up at Louis to receive his approval, he hesitated before nodding. He watched her as her hand slowly began to smoothly glide up and down. He rolled his head back onto the pillow, heaving slow breaths as chest coiled and unfurled at every stroke. Brandi began to dip her head down.

The sound of the door creaking open startled them both. Brandi shot up and Louis hastily shoved his cock back into his boxers. His head snapped upward at the door to see a short body and dirty blonde hair peeking in. He fixed his posture, sitting upright, then sliding his legs over the bed onto the floor. He zipped up his pants while trying to hide his very obvious hard on.

With a disturbed look on her face, Daisy took a step backward as Louis approached her.

He scowled. “How long have you been standing here?” he asks, worrying about how much she could have seen. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from his mum if she found out.

“Not long,” she responds, her voice tiny, expressing an uneasiness. She already felt uncomfortable, and wanted to escape the situation. Before Louis could speak again, she cut him off. “I’m really sorry,” she sputters, “I know I shouldn’t have been watching you. I promise I won’t tell mum.” He felt relief flow through him. Daisy turned around and scampered away before he could say anything. Louis closed the door and turned back around, sighing.

“Siblings, right?” Brandi chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t crack a laugh, he only felt guilty for not making sure the door was closed so his younger sister didn’t see something that she wasn’t supposed to see. Brandi beckons him back to the bed, but he shows reluctance. Once he was interrupted, it felt awkward to resume again.

The door opening downstairs was heard. Louis remembered that Ben, his mum’s boyfriend had been invited over for dinner tonight. Brandi swung her feet over onto the floor and began to step towards him, wondering who’s downstairs.

“My mum’s boyfriend is here,” Louis mutters, before she could ask. “You should go.” He began to turn around to lead her back downstairs to the door.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Brandi says as she reaches the bottom step. She kisses him on the cheek, then he swings the door open. She proceeds out the door without looking back. Louis shuts and locks the door, then turns around to proceed into the kitchen to see a tall man, with hair as dark as coal and a clean shaven face standing with Johannah. His brown eyes flashed towards Louis.

“I’m assuming this is your son, Louis?” Ben asks, briefly craning his neck back to her.

She nods, motioning Louis over. Ben reaches out his hand and they both shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Louis asserts, letting his hand fall back at his side. Jay turned back around to finish cooking dinner.

“Louis, go tell your sisters to come downstairs. I want them to meet Ben, plus dinner's almost ready.” Louis spun around to leave the room to do what his mum had asked.

Everyone sat at the table, passing around each plate and bowl of food to serve themselves. Louis filled his glass up with water and sat back down. He decides to start a conversation, to get to know Ben better.

“So, Ben,” he begins, “What do you do for a living?” Louis picks up his fork, stabbing the ham and picking it up. Ben finished chewing and swallowed before answering the question.

“I’m a vehicle mechanic. I work at a garage not too far from here.”

Daisy occasionally sneaked glances at her brother, unable to rid those graphic images from her mind. She tried not to let on that something was up, afraid that Jay would figure out that something was wrong and would force her to confess. Daisy knew that Louis would never hear the end of it.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry’s eyes slowly peeled open to the morning sunlight that poured into his room. He yawned, his eyes focusing on Louis who still lies beside him. Their legs were still intertwined underneath the sheets. Harry didn’t realize how he had become adjusted to the cold touch of Louis’ skin, he barely noticed it anymore. Though, it was a surprise to him that he noticed it now, having it not be a long time since he did.

Harry continued to stare at him, admiring his delicate features; his eyelashes fan across his perfect and pronounced cheekbones as his eyes remain closed. He knew that Louis wasn’t asleep, only his eyes were closed. Harry didn’t even know if ghosts could sleep.

He didn’t want to leave Harry’s side last night, so he continued to lie there with him. Harry had been so quiet that Louis didn’t know that he was awake now. Louis finally opened his eyes and rolled over on his side to see Harry staring admirably at him.

“Good morning,” Louis says, his lips curving upward into a grin. Harry briefly acknowledges him, processing the question he was determined to ask him.

“Do you ever sleep?” Harry observes how Louis reacts to his question. He appeared to be offended. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from responding with a snarky remark.

“It isn’t necessary.” Louis turned away from Harry, lying on his back. Harry could see that he obviously struck a nerve, making him feel terrible for asking the question. He didn’t expect him to take it so personally, but then again he could understand why he did. Harry made Louis feel more alive and human than ever, and anything that reminded him of who he is added salt to the emotional wound.

Harry remembered that Ianto’s party is today, he still has to eat breakfast then get a shower. He sat up and began to push the duvet back, swinging his legs over onto the floor. Louis turned towards Harry again, reaching out to grab his arm. Harry turned back to Louis, beckoning him to stay.

“Stay in bed with me,” he pleaded, pouting. He kept pulling Harry’s arm, while Harry laughed. He glanced at the time on his clock, seeing that it was still quite early. It wouldn’t hurt to kill a little time. Harry fell backwards onto his bed and situated himself beside Louis again. Louis grinned like a little kid who’s very happy they got what they wanted.

“I really shouldn’t be giving into you like this,” Harry remarks, causing Louis to snicker. He moves closer to Harry, so they were inches apart. Louis leans in, carefully placing his lips against Harry’s. After five seconds, their lips disconnect and Harry watches as Louis’ hand snaked underneath the duvet. He knows where it’s going, but he doesn’t stop him. Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock underneath his boxers, rubbing gently to the point it started to harden.

Harry hastily pushes back the duvet and fumbles with the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His length pops out, bouncing against his stomach. He watches Louis wrap his hand around the lengthened cock and begin to pump slowly, his thick member hardening in his small hand. Louis doesn't stop, and quickens his speed up and down Harry’s stiff length.

Harry throws his head backward onto his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut, a throaty moan escaping his lips. Louis begins to lean his head downward towards Harry’s cock, his lips brushing against the reddened tip that popped out of the foreskin at every stroke. Harry lifts his hand up, tangling it in Louis’ hair and pushing him downward, his hips bucking. Louis’ hand slides down to the base, his tongue lightly grazing over the head.

“F-fuck,” Harry swears as Louis’ tongue courses around the head, teasing him. His clammy hand stays tangled in Louis’ hair and he tries to steady his breathing. He didn’t expect Louis to take the initiative and actually go for it, but he did, and he’s not as bad as Harry expected. Harry’s arm that was tangled in Louis’ hair fell to the duvet, and he closes his eyes again, feeling Louis engulf his cock.

Louis realized that Harry was in a fragile state, and he was going to take advantage of it. He wanted to surprise him. He hollowed his cheeks, trying to take Harry’s cock as deep as he could without his gag reflex acting. Harry’s hips bucked upward again, shoving his length farther into Louis’ mouth.

* * *

Loud music reverberated around Harry as he made his way around the neverending crowds of people. He finally reached the sofa, where Ianto, Luke, and some of their mates sat. He set his beer on the coffee table and situated himself in the recliner.

“Long time no see,” Ianto says to Harry, attempting to make his voice heard over the loud music. They both shake hands. “Haven’t seen you since you moved.”

“I know. I’ve been busy.” Harry picks his beer up off the table, taking a swig.

“So, how have you been? It’s been awhile.” Ianto asks, wondering what Harry has been up to since he moved.

“Everything’s great,” Harry chimes. Regardless of the predicaments surrounding the house, he tried not to let it bother him as much as it should. He earned a side-eye from Luke, reminding him of that day where Louis made him terrified to the point he refused to come back.

“So you’ve been fancying anyone lately, Harry?” Eric, another one of Ianto’s friends and also knew Harry, asks, in between sips of his beer. “Random question, I know.” All of Harry’s friends knew about his sexuality. Eric was afraid that Harry was bothered by the question, but he actually wasn’t. Harry expected it to come up sooner or later. He doesn’t hesitate to nod, Louis instantly popping into his mind.

“What’s his name? Only if you’re comfortable with sharing.” Luke buts in, his eyebrows knitting across his forehead.

“Louis,” Harry says boldly, his lips curving upward into a grin. This was the first time Harry is talking about him to other people other than his family, and he couldn’t contain his expression of gaiety and exhilaration. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was because his mum wasn’t too fond of the idea, and it lowered his spirits. “He’s a nice lad. Cheeky at times, but also charming.” This morning’s events entered his mind, and the lustful haze of feelings began to surface. He could feel his dick twitch, forcing him to adjust himself in the seat.

“I’m gonna have to meet him sometime,” Ianto remarked. “Maybe we can all go out and have a few drinks.” Harry gave him an uncertain look, but it didn’t stay on his face for too long that Ianto would question it. Harry takes another swig of his beer, then realizes that it's almost empty. He finishes it and stands up to grab himself another one from the kitchen.

Harry steps out of the kitchen and proceeds back to the sofa where Ianto, Luke, Eric and some others still remained. He sits back down in the recliner, pops the cap off and takes a swig.

Luke thinks of mentioning that Harry’s house is haunted, but he worried about being laughed at and made a mockery of.

“Did Harry tell you that his house is haunted?” Luke asks Ianto and Eric, confusion spreads over their face.

“Oh really now?” Eric attempts to suppress his laughter. Even though they didn’t believe in ghosts, he and Ianto turn to Harry, waiting for him to explain. Harry recognized that he didn’t have that many options. He was there with Luke when it happened, and he wasn’t going to deny it and make him sound crazy.

“Yeah, it is, I guess.” Harry’s eyes drop down to the cold bottle in his hand, ignoring the reactions of everyone, except for Luke. He wished that Luke didn’t bring it up, because now he felt embarrassed. Harry continued to drink his beer and not say anything else pertaining to current topic

*

There was a massive series of crashes that were heard from the kitchen. Anne, sat on the sofa in the living room and who was deep into reading a book, jumped, startled. She quickly placed the bookmark onto the page and shut the book, then swung her legs over onto the floor, standing up to investigate. She slowly made her way out of the room and into the kitchen.

Pots and pans lay sprawled out over the floor, all the cabinets that contained them were opened along with every single drawer. It’s not like she wasn’t adjusted to these occurrences, it’s only that they freaked her out still. Anne refused to succumb to the spirits whose only intentions were to terrify her. She was the only one home at the moment, and that didn’t help either.

A cold ambience whipped past her, forcing goosebumps to rise all over her skin. Somebody-something was nearby, but they weren’t revealing themselves. Anne began to wish that Harry and Gemma would be home soon, but the possibility of Harry arriving before the morning was very slim. If he had gotten drunk, he wasn’t going to drive until he sobered up.

Anne crouched down, starting to collect the pots and pans off the floor and storing them back into the cabinets. She eventually closed all the drawers once the floor was clear and she could get around to all of them.

There was a sound of giggling children, prompting her to freeze, her breath hitching in her throat. Anne spun around in her place, scanning her surroundings. As she could see, she was the only one in the kitchen. She finally found the strength to pick up her feet and leave the room.

She stepped back into the living room, collecting her book then turning back around and proceeding up the staircase to her bedroom without stopping.

 

* * * * *

_**2005** _

 

“Terrence?” Sara called out, searching for her husband. Her footsteps thumped down the staircase. She stepped off the bottom step and rounded the corner. She scanned her surroundings as she walked, but he wasn’t to be seen. The sound of metal clattering to the floor emitted from the kitchen.

Sara came to a halt as soon as she entered the kitchen. Terrence stood ten feet away from her, his hands covered in blood. A steak knife, the blade covered in blood lay on the floor below him. A horrified expression is plastered across his face. Sara’s hand slapped against her mouth, unable to believe the ghastly sight.

“I had no idea what I was doing,” he stammers, his voice quivering. “I heard these voices, and next thing I knew I was standing here with my bloody hand cut open, holding the knife.” Sara takes several steps towards her husband, eyeing him and the amount of blood in shock.

“I need to take you to A&E immediately,” was all she could utter, staring at his hand covered in blood. She crouched down onto the floor, grabbing the knife and setting it in the sink. She grabbed a roll of paper towels out of the closet, handing several to Terrence to clean his hand.

Occurrences such as this weren’t rare to the Mansfield’s, they happen quite often, but nothing as extreme as this until now. The two of them were quite freaked out, and were thinking of moving already due to the misfortunes this house possesses that were affecting them. Sara didn’t know if she could take it anymore. They were both terrified every single day that passes by.

Once she dumped the paper towels in the trash bin, Sara turned around to start the car. She grabbed her car keys off the table near the door, then swung the door open, hurrying out to the car.

Terrence kept trying to attain his wound to stop bleeding, but it was so deep that blood kept pouring out. He rushed up the staircase to grab the first aid kid to treat it and wrap gauze around his hand until they arrived at the hospital. He could hear the same voices again, this time laughing. This time, it only started to make him furious. He was tempted to make a testy response, but held himself back.

 

* * * * *

 

Louis sat on the sofa in the living room, silent, waiting for Harry’s arrival. It was almost noon, and he was growing a tad impatient. His gaze lifted upward from the almond colored pillow to the frames of photos sitting on the end table. He slid across the couch to get a better look at them. One photo was of Harry and Gemma, who both appeared to be very young, standing on a beach in their swimsuits with an ocean behind them. Another photo displayed only Anne and Harry, which Louis guessed he was around fourteen.

The sound of the door unlocking startled him. He spun in the direction of the foyer to see the door opening, Harry stepping inside.

“It’s about time,” Louis said while standing up, as Harry closes and locks the door behind him.

Harry was about to walk towards him until he heard footsteps exit the kitchen. He turned to see his mum, who he could tell is relieved to see him.

“Thank god you’re home,” she announces. “I was starting to become worried.” 

“There was no way I was driving last night,” Harry says, following a light chuckle. He could see Louis out his peripheral vision, waiting for him.

“The weirdest thing happened last night,” she begins, catching both Harry and Louis’ attention. “I was sitting in the living room, and there was this loud crash. All the pots and pans suddenly-somehow were on the floor, and all the drawers, cupboards and cabinets were open.”

Harry frowned, seeing the new flustered look on his mum’s face. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close to calm her down. He always hated to see his mum look so scared and upset.

“Everything’s okay now,” he whispered into her ear, attempting to soothe her nerves. “I’m here.”

Because she was still freaked out about last night, Anne decided to head out. She only stayed at home because she wanted to wait for Harry to arrive. To Harry’s knowledge, it was only him now in the house alone.

“Like I said, it’s about time,” Louis repeated, approaching Harry who shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the hook. Harry spun back to see that he was three feet away.

“I was drunk off my ass last night. There was no way I was going to drive home until I sobered up.” Harry noticed that Louis seemed to be glad to see him. Louis’ face scrunched up, smelling the potent scent of alcohol, weed, and cigarette smoke on Harry.

“I think you should get a shower,” Louis advised, stepping backward. “You reek.”

Out of spite, Harry jokingly wraps his arms around Louis’ smaller frame tightly in an embrace. Louis was taken aback, he tried not to inhale the unique and rancid smells as his body was pushed against Harry’s.

“I guess that makes two of us now,” Harry chuckles, his chest vibrating against Louis’. Harry eventually let go, but Louis didn't find it funny. Harry rolled his eyes at Louis’ unamused state, proceeding towards the staircase. Harry continued up the staircase towards his bedroom.

“Before you ask, I had nothing to do with last night,” Louis spoke up, before Harry could possibly question him if he had anything to do with all the pots and pans that fell to the floor. He follows Harry into his room.

“I never thought you did,” Harry instantly responds. He sets his phone on his night stand, then pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in the laundry bin. Louis plopped down on Harry’s bed, watching him continue to undress.

Harry turned back to Louis when he was halfway undressed. If he was going to be honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind sharing the shower with Louis.

“Wouldn’t you want to wash those odors off of you?” he proposed, a sly smile quirking itself up on his face. Louis understood the sly motive that Harry had. He shook his head, declining.

“Joke’s on you, I don’t need to shower.” Even though that was a lie, Louis figured that Harry had planned to scheme him into getting a shower with him ever since he hugged him a few minutes ago. “We’re called ghosts for a reason. We really don’t have much of a purpose other than to haunt people. We can eat, sleep, and get showers if we want to, but there’s no point.” Louis watched as the smile fell from Harry’s face.

“So, you obviously don’t want to,” Harry noted, starting for the door that led to the bathroom.

“I just can't,” Louis says, an uncertainty laced in his voice. Harry spins back around to Louis.

“We've sucked each other’s dicks, how can showering together make you uncomfortable?” He crosses his arms over his chest, scoffing.

Even though Louis implied it, he wasn't uncomfortable about the idea at all. It was Harry seeing the ghastly scars on his chest that he resented and was also ashamed of. He didn't want Harry to ever see them, and he was determined to avoid any situation where it led to taking his shirt off where Harry was around, not counting the day Harry let him borrow his clothes.

Louis remained silent, not answering Harry’s question. Harry turned back around and proceeded through the doorway, sliding off his boxers and turning on the shower. Cold water poured from the shower head, starting to heat up.

*

Harry turned the water off and grabbed the towel off the rack. He stepped out of the tub and wrapped it around his torso, proceeding out the door towards his bedroom to get dressed.

Louis was no longer sat on his bed, or to be seen at all. Harry proceeded over towards his chest of drawers, pulled out a new pair of pants and then over to his closet, opening it and sorting through his clothes. He chose a new pair of Adidas sweats and a blue graphic t-shirt.

The doorbell was heard as it chimed downstairs. Harry quickly finished getting dressed. He slid the shirt over his head and started out of his bedroom and down the staircase.

He unlocks and opens the door to find nobody there. Harry steps out, searching for the person who could have rang the doorbell, but there was nobody in sight at all. The lawn was spotless, and so was the sidewalk. Puzzled, Harry steps back inside, shutting and locking the door. He starts for the staircase to head back upstairs.

The doorbell chimed again. Harry’s footsteps came to a halt as he reached the seventh step up. He decided whether to trek all the way down again, if there was a point since it seemed like someone was playing tricks on him. The chime was heard for a second time, now getting on Harry’s nerves. He reluctantly started back down.

He opens the door and steps outside again to see two young preteen boys darting away towards the house next door. Harry remembered that Tanya lived there, and he assumed they must be her sons, Charles and George, who she mentioned. He stepped back inside.

“Kids,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes and shutting the door for the final time. He proceeds back up the staircase without stopping. Harry didn’t realize how exhausted he still was from last night. Crashing onto his bed, closing his eyes and drifting into a nap sounded like a good idea to him. He could feel his eyelids start to grow heavy as he reentered his room.

Harry’s eyes slowly peel open, his vision blurred and unfocused. He spots a figure sitting on his bed, staring down at him. His vision focuses, and the figure becomes more solid. She wears a long, vintage peach dress dated to the turn of the 19th century, her strawberry blonde hair is pinned back in a bun. Several loose, curly strands hung down out of the bun. She regards him with displeasure, and scoffs as Harry’s gaze locks onto hers.

“What are you doing with your life? Throwing it away to be with that...revenant? I really pity you.” She finishes her sentence with a bitter taste on her tongue. “But you gays are repulsive.” Her face twists in revulsion. “If only you were my son…”

Before Harry could ask her who she is, she disappeared as he began to sit up. He regards the exact area where she was sitting with confusion. He rolls his eyes, shrugging it off, then checks the time on his clock to see three hours had gone by. He swings his legs over onto the floor and stands up, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and starting for the door.

Harry didn’t realize how hungry he felt. He hadn’t had anything to eat since last night, and the occasional vomiting early this morning didn’t help either. His footsteps thumped down the staircase, he proceeds into the kitchen.

“Harry.” His footsteps freeze, hearing a young female voice say his name. He spins in the direction of the voice, but it was absent of a presence. He scans his surroundings, searching for a suspect, but he was the only one in the kitchen. Harry spins back around, proceeding towards the fridge.

He begins to prepare himself a cheese toastie. The most basic meal to hopefully cure his hunger. He wasn’t in the mood for anything advanced, which would evidently take longer to prepare.

Harry sat down at the table, picking the sandwich up off the plate and taking a bite. Due to his hunger, he quickly chewed, devouring the cheese toastie that didn’t turn out too bad. Harry grabbed the glass of water, taking several sips to help digest the food.

He sets the glass back down on the table, but hears a door creak open. Harry’s gaze immediately lands on the door that led to the basement, open a sliver. He quickly finishes the sandwich and sets the plate in the dishwasher.

Curious, Harry starts over towards the door, continuing down the staircase without any hesitance. His feet hit the bottom step, and he steps down onto the floor. He begins to step away from the staircase, meandering around the room.

He hears muffled voices in the distance, stopping him in his tracks. He steers in the direction of the voices to see a teenage girl, her blonde hair matted with blood, her left eye swollen and a split lip. Blood dripped down the side of her face.

“I said this was private property,” she mutters, her voice mousy. Her dull, lifeless, blue eyes met Harry’s.

“This is my house,” Harry responded, his tone a tad snappy. She appears to be confused, she looks around.

“Who are you?” she asks, her gaze meeting Harry’s again.

“Harry.” Harry takes a step toward her to get a closer look, but she only steps backward. Before he could say anything else, she disappears.

He hears footsteps approaching him from behind. He spins around to see a man, wearing a grey suit a tie, and a cigar placed in between his lips. He takes the cigar out of his mouth. Harry takes a step backward, away from him.

“Pardon me, but have you seen my wife, Esther?”

Harry shakes his head, puzzled. Though, he started to become a bit terrified. He bolts past the man and toward the staircase.

Another girl, blood dripping from a line across her throat briefly appears, making his heart stop for a split-second. He jets up the staircase, slamming the door shut behind him. Harry’s quickened breathing only begins to slow down, but not fully. His heart continues to hammer against his chest, trying to get rid of the images of the ghosts that currently scarred his mind.

He hears footsteps in the hallway, prompting his head to turn in the direction of the sounds. By the time he fully looks, the footsteps disappear. Harry slowly takes several footsteps toward the hallway to investigate, but there’s nobody in sight. A door slams shut upstairs, startling him, following the familiar sound of giggling children.

Harry, feeling as if he’s going to pass out, also feels helpless and vulnerable. He’s ran out of ideas, he didn’t know what to do. He begins to wheeze, remaining unsuccessful at catching his breath. Harry feels his knees weaken, eventually collapsing onto the floor.

Arms catch him before his knees hit the floor, wrapping around his shoulders. They help him back up on his feet, aiding him over toward the sofa in the living room. Harry could only receive a glimpse of who was touching him, all he could see is pinned back wavy blonde hair that brushed against his face, and an ankle length lavender skirt.

“You poor boy,” she mutters, helping him lay down onto the sofa. Harry immediately begins to recognize the woman, painstakingly and obviously Dorothy, but he doesn’t say anything. “Don’t let those ghouls scare you.” Her face twists in disgust. Harry could only wonder where Louis is, but it didn’t really matter to him as of right now. His mind is all clouded, resulting him in being unable to think straight.

“Could I get some water?” he asks her.

She nods, smiling. “Of course.” Dorothy whisks herself away out of the living room and into the kitchen. Harry situates himself, letting his head fall onto the pillow. He could feel his heart and his breathing began to slow down and regulate as he began to finally calm down.

Dorothy re-enters the living room, holding a glass of water. She bends down, handing Harry the glass. He sits up against the arm of the sofa and takes several sips.

“You should rest,” she suggests, “Take your mind off of it. It’s what they want, to see you frightened.”

Harry closes his eyes for a few seconds, but when he opens them again, she’s gone. The room is so silent you could hear a pin drop.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the Halloween chapter. Right in time for Halloween in two weeks. If only I could post this chapter the day before Halloween instead, but I don't want to irritate anyone with the two week posting. But anyway, it's a long one and I worked extra hard on this chapter, so enjoy and leave comments!

_Songs for the chapter: Feel Again by OneRepublic; A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay; Yellow by Coldplay_

 

Harry rolled over onto his back. His eyes flickered open, immediately spotting a familiar figure over by his mirror. Once his eyes focused, he recognized the figure as Louis. Harry begins to situate himself upward, leaning against the headboard.

“Where have you been?” he asks Louis, as he begins to spin around to face him.

Louis seemed to be confused by the question. “What do you mean?” He continues to saunter around, picking up a picture frame of Harry, Gemma, his mum and his dad.

“You know what I mean,” Harry says, annoyed. “You suddenly went missing yesterday, and I even got scared half to death.”

Louis’ jaw falls agape, he sets the frame back on the desk and plods over toward Harry who sits in his bed enveloped in the sheets. He sits down on the bed beside Harry’s legs which were underneath the duvet.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes with true sincerity. “I didn’t know that was happening. But I did wait here for you to come back, but you didn’t and I figured you went out.”

Harry rolls his eyes and scoffs. But he guesses that they were both at fault.

“You’re evolved now,” Louis spoke, his eyes directly meeting Harry’s. “Which means the ghosts will be more comfortable with making appearances. Some of them are bored and find fun in scaring people, but you don’t have to tolerate them if you don’t want to. You can tell them to “go away”.”

Harry remembered Louis mentioning it awhile ago when he was angry with him for the incident with Luke, and it almost slipped off his tongue, but Louis cut him off.

“I remember you mentioning that when I was furious with you,” Harry remarks, lifting the duvet back and sliding his legs over the bed and onto the floor to sit next to him.

Louis nods. “I actually regret that,” he mutters, implying the pranks he pulled on Luke. “I was dumb and foolish.” His gaze drops to the floor. Harry lifts his arm up, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, hugging Louis close to him. Harry leaned over towards his nightstand to grab his phone. He turns it on to see that it’s the 30th. Tomorrow is the 31st, aka Halloween. “Well this week flew,” he mumbles, and Louis snaps his head upward to see what Harry was looking at. The corners of his lips curved upward. He hasn’t been this excited for a day in a very long time.

A random thought struck Harry’s mind. He realized that he hasn’t seen his sister very often. She’s made brief appearances, but has been out with friends very frequently since they moved in. A little too frequently.

Hungry, Harry starts downstairs to grab breakfast. Louis decides not to follow him, choosing to wait for him again, comparatively to yesterday. Harry promised him that he would return this time.

Harry enters the kitchen to see his mum. A question regarding Gemma struck his mind, and he thought of asking her. Harry continued to prepare himself breakfast, processing the question.

“You seem as if you have something on your mind,” Anne remarks, glancing up at him as she sorts through the mail and bills.

Harry shrugs. He now felt on the spot, but he knew that it was the right time to ask her.

“Is everything alright with Gemma?” he inquires. “I’ve rarely seen her lately, she’s always out.”

Anne sets the envelope on the table and sighs. “It’s the house. She’s been so spooked by it she’s trying to avoid being home as much as she can. But I can’t say I don’t blame her.”

Harry sits down at the table, watching as his mum rests her hand on her forehead, staring down at a letter.

“Is something wrong?”

She nods, a pained expression writing itself across her face. “We need to move, but we just don’t have the money. We can’t continue to live here. We’re not safe. I’m even afraid to invite anyone over.”

Harry feels his heart sink. He continues to eat his breakfast without showing any reaction. Louis has impacted his life in so many positive ways, and he knew that Louis felt the same way. He felt as if they just moved in, and he wasn’t ready yet. It was all too soon. 

 * 

Proceeding down the staircase, Harry hears voices from the kitchen, recognizing them as Gemma and his mum. Their voices immediately diminished as he stepped down onto the floor and turned around the corner. Harry slowed down, taking his time as he entered the kitchen. He heard the door open from upstairs, and he assumed that Gemma was home. He wanted to come downstairs to see her because they haven’t talked much.

Gemma and Anne were both sat at the table, appearing as if they were in deep conversation until they heard Harry’s footsteps at the bottom of the staircase. Gemma looked up at her brother, pursing her lips and pressing them into a thin line. She doesn’t say anything, instead allows Anne to talk.

“I was just telling Gemma that we need to move, and she agrees. We’re both frightened, this house...it’s like it’s cursed.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. He knew his mum was right about the house being cursed, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“They’re just ghosts, they can’t hurt you,” he says, trying to convince her to rethink moving already. Anne was aware of his intentions, but she chose not to comment, refusing to upset him again.

“Harry,” Gemma began, drawing his attention. He turned his attention to her. “I understand why you’re reluctant to move out. You’ve grown very close to Louis, but you need to understand that he’s a ghost. We’re both concerned about you.” Gemma gestures towards Anne.

“I understand why you’re concerned, but I’m fine, really,” he retorted. “There may be several hitches with this house, but we just settled in. You shouldn’t let a few nuisances scare you away just yet.” Regardless of the event yesterday, Harry couldn’t let it bother him. He knew that Anne and Gemma believed he was doing this because of Louis.

“Well, because we have no money in the bank right now, it looks like you’ll get your wish,” Anne says, but an uneasy look crosses her face. “All the money that we had, this house swallowed it up.”

Harry felt relieved, but he knew he should feel selfish for being glad that they have no money in the bank to move. Before either of them could say anything else, he turns around to head back up to his bedroom. Neither of them stop him and they let him go.

He enters his bedroom to find Louis using his laptop. It was placed on his lap as he sat on Harry’s bed, he seemed to be a tad confused. Harry walked over and sat beside him, curious about what he could be doing. The screen was opened to iTunes, displaying his music library. Louis glanced up at Harry, startled.

“Sorry,” he apologized, handing the laptop back to Harry. “I got bored and wanted to explore your laptop.”

Harry gave a dismissive wave, chuckling. “I don’t mind, as long as you didn’t delete anything. You’re free to use it.” Harry shuts it down and sets it on the duvet behind him. He turned back to him, and leaned in, pressing his lips against his. Harry lifted his hand up, cupping his cheek, holding him in place. “I love you,” he whispered, breaking the kiss briefly.

Harry’s other hand snaked upward towards the hem of Louis’ shirt, starting to pull it upward. Almost immediately Louis’ hand grabs his, stopping him. Harry broke the kiss, leaning backward, confused.

“What?”

Louis shakes his head, tearing his gaze away from Harry and sighing.

“I don’t want you to see them,” he says, with disdain laced in his voice, implying the stab wounds on his chest. He swallowed hard and frowned. He had a deep resentment for them, and was afraid of what Harry’s reaction might be if he saw the graphic scars.

Harry was aware of what Louis was talking about. The scars he has seen when he caught a glimpse of him getting dressed when he let him borrow his clothes. Harry could understand why Louis seemed so self-conscious over the scars, which especially led him to his death. It wasn’t something to be proud of. He guessed that he should speak up and let him know he’s already seen them.

“Lou,” he says, trying to grab Louis’ attention. His head snaps back up at Harry. “I’ve seen them already. Back when I let you borrow my clothes, I accidentally caught a glimpse while you were getting dressed.”

Louis’ jaw falls agape. Though Harry seemed a bit miffed remembering the image, it didn’t bother him as much as Louis expected it to. He figured that there was no point in hiding the scars anymore now. He motioned for Harry to continue to lift up his shirt.

Harry hesitated at first, unsure if Louis was serious or not. Observing his hesitance, Louis made it clear that he was serious, and Harry continued to slowly lift up the shirt. Louis gulped as the shirt was lifted over his head and tossed to the floor. Harry continued to gape at the scars, completely stunned. Up close they were unimaginable, compared to several feet away.

“I’m so sorry,” was all Harry could manage, his eyes flicking upward to meet Louis’ bleak ones. The silence between them is so heavy. Harry was rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to say.

“Get a good look, you’re the only person who’s ever going to see them.”

Harry admired Louis’ humor, especially in an intense situation such as this. Harry leaned inward again, pressing his lips against Louis’. This time neither of them stopped, and it only amplified.

 

* * * * *

 

Louis stepped into the house. He shuts and locks the door behind him then takes off his jacket. He hears voices from the kitchen, recognizing them as they belong to his mum’s and Ben’s. He proceeds into the kitchen.

“You came home at the right time,” Jay tells him as soon as he enters the kitchen. “Ben and I have been talking, and because we’ve gotten serious, I decided to ask him to move in.”

Louis’ face lit up. His mum and Ben have been dating for more than a year now. He was a really great guy, and Louis was happy for his mum.

“Do Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe know yet?” he inquires, an eagerness in his tone of voice.

“Not yet. When they get home I’ll break the news,” she responds blithely.

“So, did you know that the house is haunted?” he asks Ben, the corners of his lips curving upward into a smirk.

Jay rolls her eyes.

Ben chuckles. “Is it now?”

Louis nods, but before he could say anything, Jay cut him off.

“No, it’s not. Ever since we’ve moved in he’s become obsessed with the idea of this house being haunted.” She turns to Ben. “I promise you it’s not haunted.”

The smile on Louis’ face fell. But he didn’t expect any other response from her, she wouldn’t believe that the house is haunted, and constantly denied the existence of ghosts no matter how many times Louis brought it up. Embarrassed, he decided to leave the room.

Louis proceeds up the staircase towards his bedroom. He steps into the room to find a picture frame that used to sit on his nightstand now on the floor, glass shattered all over. He scowls and sighs, turning around to grab a broom from downstairs.

 

* * * * *

 

_Stepping into the house, Harry shuts the door behind him. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up, then turns back around and proceeds into the kitchen to find blood smeared all over the floor. His breath hitches in his throat at the ghastly sight. He slowly proceeds forward, spotting familiar shoes and legs sticking out from behind the island. To get a better look of the body, he gulps and slowly steps towards the feet._

Harry’s eyes snap open and he immediately sits up, scanning his surroundings. His eyes eventually land on Louis, who stood at the doorway to his bedroom, leaning against the moulding.

“You have a bad dream?” Louis asks, starting towards Harry.

Harry nods as Louis sits down beside him.

“Tell me,” Louis insists. The images were so graphic in Harry’s mind they made him shudder. He was hesitant.

“There was blood everywhere, and a familiar body lying on the ground. The shoes were recognizable, but I woke up before I could see the whole body.”

“Recognizable?” Louis begins to wonder who it could have been.

Harry nods. “I think it was me.”

Louis’ jaw falls agape and his gaze snaps up to Harry, speechless. He didn’t know what to say. A heavy silence fell in between them.

“That’s terrible. I’m really sorry about that,” is all he could muster. He grimaces, trying to imagine the image.

Harry shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” He lifts the duvet up and swings his legs over onto the floor. “Onto a brighter note, we don’t have all day.” He turns back to Louis and laughs, stretching his arms outward, then standing up and walking over toward his closet.

Harry quickly gets dressed. He grabs his phone and wallet then proceeds out of his room and down the staircase, Louis following closely behind him. He grabs his jacket off the hook and unlocks the door.

“You’re not going to eat breakfast?” Louis questions as Harry opens the door.

“We can grab McDonalds or something.” Harry already mentioned to his mum that he and Louis were going to be out the whole day on Halloween, so he didn’t need to worry about letting her know that he’s leaving. The two proceeded out the door and Harry led him to his car.

Harry started the ignition and pulled away from the curb. Louis lifted his arm up, reaching for the dial by the radio to turn it on. He lifts his gaze up to the windshield, then turning toward the window to watch as their surroundings passed by. He feels Harry’s warm hand come in contact with his, their fingers interlocking. Harry briefly notices that Louis isn’t wearing a seatbelt.

“You should put your seatbelt on,” he suggests. “It’s the law now.” Harry points to the right of the passenger seat’s window, and Louis cranes his neck to see a hanging black strap out of the wall.

“Everything’s so different nowadays,” he notes, reaching back to grab it, his hand sliding downward and stretching it across his body. He clicks it into the buckle. Louis continues to stare out the window, watching the houses and stores pass by. The vehicle makes a turn, and on both sides are grassy plains, then entering onto a highway. He wonders where they could be going, but doesn’t ask.

An hour passes by, and judging by how far it seems like they’ve been traveling, Louis could only presume that Harry’s taking him to London, where he hasn’t been in over two decades. He could only begin to imagine how much it has changed since.

Harry parks the vehicle alongside the curb. He kills the ignition and releases his seatbelt from the buckle. Louis follows Harry, before he could ask where they’re going, Harry climbs out of the car. Louis follows behind him and turns around to see several shops lined up along the street. Harry gestures for Louis to follow him towards the Starbucks.

Louis follows Harry inside, the vibrant scent of coffee rushed up his nostrils. He wasn’t a huge coffee drinker, but Harry wasn’t aware of this. He lifts his gaze upward toward the three menus on the wall behind the cash register and the display of breakfast pastries.

“There’s so many flavors,” he remarks, as he continues to read over the different types of coffee and the flavors. “What is a frappuccino?” He glances at Harry with a look of confusion.

Harry chuckles. “It’s a type of iced coffee but with whipped topping. It’s very good though.”

“I’ll get that...I guess.” He knew it couldn’t hurt to try something new, especially because he figured that he had the chance now.

Harry and Louis collected their coffees off the counter. Louis follows him over towards the condiments to grab a straw. He pokes the straw through the whipped topping and turns around.

His breath immediately hitches in his throat and he comes to a standstill as a woman steps inside with a young girl who appeared to be her daughter. He recognizes her almost instantly. Brandi’s hair was shorter than the last time he saw her, her auburn hair stopped right at her shoulders. Even though it had been over twenty years, she didn’t seem like she aged a day. Louis could feel his gut wrench as he continued to gape at her, drowning out all the sounds around him.

It took until she ordered her coffee for Brandi to catch Louis’ gaze. Her breath hitches in her throat as their eyes meet. She took a step toward the counter to wait for her drink. The memories flood back to her, recognizing his face. She swore that his face was exactly identical, but she knew that he was dead, so it wasn’t possible. Brandi could feel her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to look up at him again. 

Louis snapped himself out of the gaze and hurried out. He swallowed back a lump in his throat. He didn’t realize that Harry was already waiting for him in the car.

Louis opens the door and sits down in the seat, silent. He sets his drink in the cup holder besides Harry’s.

“Is everything alright? But who were you staring at?” Harry questions him, observing how his dismal eyes laid on the dashboard.

“I’m fine, and no one,” Louis says, meeting Harry’s gaze. He tried to come off as blithe to convince Harry that nothing was wrong.

Harry had a hard time believing him, but he chose not to challenge him, it was most likely something that Louis doesn’t feel comfortable talking about, and he respected that. The engine roared to life, and he pulled away from the curb.

“So, where to now?” Louis asks him.

“Well I’m hungry, so looks like breakfast,” Harry responds, searching for a restaurant as he proceeds down the street. Louis picks up his drink and takes a sip. He was taken aback by the taste, it actually wasn’t that bad.

 

The two of them proceeded down the sidewalk, back to Harry’s car that was parked alongside the curb. Once they were within reasonable distance, Harry drew his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the doors.

Before Harry could step towards the door, Louis raced over, throwing it open and plopping down onto the driver's seat. Harry opened the door to the passengers side, sitting down, turning towards Louis.

“My turn now,” Louis states, a cheeky grin on his face. Harry shakes his head.

“Do you even have a license?”

Louis nods. “Of course I do. But it may be a bit expired.” He chuckles, starting the ignition. Harry couldn’t help but worry about allowing Louis to drive, especially because it was a newer, modernized vehicle that he’s never driven before.

“I’m not going to stop you, but if we get pulled over you better have a good explanation.” Harry rolls his eyes, and only started to grow anxious as Louis continued to drive down the street.

“Relax, Harry,” Louis says, fixing the rearview mirror. “I’m not that old. I still remember how to drive, and it’s not like much has changed in cars anyway.”

Harry continues to stare out the window, noticing that they’re leaving London. He starts to question where they’re going.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Louis responds, keeping his eyes on the road.

Harry sighs, trying to ease his nerves. He tried to think of possible locations as they entered the highway and started to head north. He shuts his eyes for the remainder of the ride, feeling a random exhaustion begin to kick in.

 

The vehicle hits a pothole, and Harry’s eyes snap open. He situates himself, sitting up and leaning forward to look out the window, curious where they are now. He notices a cemetery approaching out his window, and glances back at Louis as he turns to enter the driveway. A chill slithered down Harry’s spine as they entered, he’s always hated graveyards because of how spooky they were. But he realized he was probably being a hypocrite, considering his own house was one.

Proceeding down the road, Louis began to slow down, searching out the windows. To the best of his ability, he tried to remember. He was aware that Harry was most likely questioning why he would bring him to such a desolate and depressing place.

The vehicle came to an abrupt halt, startling Harry as his head jolts forward. He spun to Louis, who killed the ignition and unlocks his door.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “But we made it, all in one piece.” He attempts to crack a joke, regarding Harry’s anxiousness about him driving. He instructs Harry to follow him as he opens his door.

Harry scoffs, unlocking his door and pushing it open. He steps out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He follows Louis onto the grass, into the maze of graves. He zips up his jacket, feeling the nippy air circle him. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, trying to keep them warm before they started to become numb.

Louis came to a stop. Harry, several footsteps behind him tried to catch up with him as he stood in front of a certain headstone he tried to read as he approached him. Louis turned back to Harry as he walked up to him. He crouches down, sitting on the grass and propping his legs up, setting his arms on his kneecaps, instructing Harry to follow. Harry read the headstone.

 

Louis William Austin Tomlinson  
December 24th 1967 - January 5th 1989  
_Beloved son_

 

Harry feels his heart drop, his blood runs cold and his jaw falls to the ground. It takes him a few seconds, a silence hangs in the air between them. He swallows back a lump in his throat as he continues to stare at the headstone. He feels as if he’s roughly being punched in the stomach, which would leave him to be severely winded.

He finally brings himself to turn his gaze up to Louis. “This is your grave…” he utters, trying to avoid his voice trembling.

Louis nods, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him close to him. Harry doesn’t know what else to say, feeling as if all the oxygen has left his lungs.

“Appreciate what you have,” Louis spoke, “You never know when it’s all going to be gone right before your eyes.” Another long silence hangs in the air. “I never even got to go to my own funeral,” he adds, scoffing.

“How did you know where you were buried?” Harry questions.

“I just assumed, I guess,” Louis responds. “It made sense that my body was buried in my hometown.” He heaved a breath, exhaling slowly, his eyes landing on his headstone. “Probably just bones now,” he mutters.

“Were you even aware that you were dead at first?” Harry asks, the thought randomly struck him.

Louis shakes his head. “No. I don’t even remember it at all, just the brief image of a knife before it happened. It took until I finally noticed the fresh scars on my chest that I’d never seen before, leading me to assume.” He heaves a deep sigh. “It’s easy to not realize that you’re dead because you have no memory of dying.”

The dreary tone hung in the air between them. Harry still felt as if he were being punched in the stomach. The emotional pain he was feeling sitting here was unimaginable. He swallows back another lump in his throat. Continuing to sit here with Louis was hard enough for him.

Harry notices that there are two surnames listed, sparking his curiosity. He didn’t think before asking the question.

“Why do you have two last names?”

Louis inhales and exhales a deep, annoyed breath. Obviously this wasn’t a question he’s too fond of. Harry could see he was bothered by the question, making him regret asking it. His gaze dropped down to the ground.

“My dad was a prick. He left me and my mum when I was born, not giving a shit about me until I was dead. Even though I had my step-dad’s last name, he still demanded his surname be listed too, because I’m still his son.”

“Wow, that’s really shitty,” Harry comments, flicking his eyes back up at Louis, “I’m so sorry.”

“It was unbelievable,” Louis shakes his head. “I was infuriated when I saw my headstone for the first time. He was never my dad, I refuse to accept it.” His gaze drops down to the ground between his legs, heaving a deep sigh.

An idea comes to Harry’s mind. He lifts Louis’ arm up from around his shoulder, his head shoots up at Harry, wondering what he’s doing.

“Where are you going?”

“Be right back,” Harry stands up and hurries back to the car. He opens the trunk, grabbing two icy cold bottles of beer out of the cooler.

Louis watches as Harry shuts the trunk and walks back. He notices that he’s holding two bottles of beer. He had an idea why Harry brought the beer out to him.

Harry situates himself back on the ground, handing a bottle to Louis.

“I think you need a drink,” Harry says, laughing.

Louis takes it, a smile quirking itself across his face. They both pop off the caps, then their bottles collide, toasting.

“On Halloween I would often go to the bar and drink,” Louis says, as he detaches the bottle from his lips. “I didn’t know how to cope with this at first. But I eventually stopped, once I realized I had abandoned my family. They were hurting a lot more, and they needed me.” He exhales, setting the bottle on the grass. “I also realized that it was pointless, and that alcohol won’t solve my problems.”

Harry switches the bottle to his left hand, lifting his right arm up and wrapping it around his upper back, hugging Louis close to hopefully comfort him. Harry suddenly remembers what his mum had told him not too long ago, now feeling his mood decrease more.

“Do you think what we have is real?” Harry questions, setting his bottle down beside Louis’.

Louis shrugs. “To a certain extent. I mean, I don’t expect you to spend your entire life with me though.” If he was going to be honest with himself, he didn’t want to. Harry’s only going to grow older while he stays the same. He couldn’t be selfish and cling to Harry, not letting him find an actual living person and start a family of his own. It was a truth he hated to bear, but he had to remind himself in order to keep himself grounded.

Harry flicked his gaze up to Louis, even though he didn't want to admit it, he knew that Louis was right. Hearing it from him made it hurt more than hearing it from his mum. Louis is all who he wanted right now, he couldn't imagine himself with anyone else. He could only wonder if Louis felt the same. He could feel the question on his tongue, but being too afraid to ask, he let it go.

 

* * *

 

Anne steps through the doorway, into the house. She shuts and locks the door behind her, then proceeding into the kitchen.

She immediately stops in her tracks, seeing a woman with long, chestnut hair standing over by the stove, her back turned to her.

“Can I help you?” Anne utters, continuing to gape at her. She quickly spins around on the balls of her feet.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude or startle you,” she says, stepping backward to leave the room.

“No, no, no.” Anne tries to stop her before she could leave. “I don’t mind.” She sets her handbag on the counter, grabbing her phone out. Sets her phone down on the counter beside her bag, then steps toward the woman.

“I’m Johannah, nice to meet you.”

Anne awkwardly shakes hands with her, automatically noticing the cold touch of her skin. She shuddered in reaction.

“Nice to meet you too,” Anne says, but with an uncertainty in her voice. She still wasn’t so keen on the whole idea of ghosts. She felt a bit intimidated. She turns around to grab a mug out of the cupboard.

“I see both our sons are out together today.”

Anne spins back around on the heels of her feet, the realization striking her. She sets the mug down on the counter behind her.

“Wait, so you’re-”

“Yes, yes I am,” Jay cuts her off, with a smile. Anne grabs the kettle, she fills it up with water from the sink, then starting up the stove, setting the kettle down for the water to boil. She walks over toward the pantry to grab the tea box out.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Anne asks her, grabbing a tea bag out of the box for herself.

Jay hesitates at first, but she nods. “Sure.”

Anne grabs another packet and walks over toward the cupboard, grabbing another mug and setting it down besides hers, along with the tea packets. She spins back around, waiting for the water to boil.

“I guess I’m the one who feels like the intruder, actually,” Anne mutters, softly chuckling.

“You’re not,” Jay speaks up. “It’s your house now. I can tell you’re probably intimidated by the spirits in this house, and you have every right to be.” An uneasy look crosses her face, she shifts uncomfortably. At one time, she didn’t believe in ghosts and belittled the idea, but now she understood how foolish she acted.

Once she filled the two mugs up with water, Anne handed her the one mug with the tea bag and they both sat down at the table.

“Is Louis your only one?” Anne asks, curious. She sets the teabag into the water.

“No.” Jay shakes her head. “I have four girls also. He’s my oldest. Speaking of Louis, ever since he had met Harry, it’s like there’s this bright light inside of him,” she spoke. “Harry brought out the side of him I can't remember the last time I’ve seen.” Her eyes drop down to the table, sighing.

“They just instantly clicked I guess…” Anne says, staring down at her mug on the table. “I can’t say I’m not happy that he found someone, but-”

“You wish that he found someone who isn’t dead,” Jay cuts her off, finishing her sentence.

Anne nods, it was exactly what she was going to say.

 

* * *

 

Walking out of the restaurant, Harry made sure to speed up in front of Louis as they strolled down the sidewalk to the car parked at the curb. Harry threw the door open and sat down in the seat.

Louis walked around to the other side, opening the door and sitting down. He figured he’s done driving for the day.

“Now since we had a late lunch, where to now?” Louis asks, as he stretches the seatbelt across his body and Harry rolls away from the curb.

Harry doesn’t respond, and continues driving down the street.

“Do you know of any park nearby?” Harry keeps his eyes on the road, waiting for Louis to answer the question. Right now, he was driving around aimlessly.

Louis gave Harry a curious and questionable look. Instead of impugning Harry’s question, he decided to answer it instead.

“Yeah. If I can remember, I think I can give you directions to a park where I would go when I was younger. Though I have no idea if it’s gone now and they replaced it with shops or homes.”

Harry indicated for him to continue and start to give him the directions. It was worth a try. If the park was gone, he would continue to find another one.

“Turn right at this intersection,” Louis instructs, pointing to the street sign up ahead. Harry turns on the turning signal and prepares to turn.

His hand disconnects from the steering wheel once he turns onto the street, dropping down and snaking towards Louis’. Louis glanced downward to see Harry’s fingers intertwining with his. Louis could feel a familiar warmth surge through his body as Harry’s skin came in contact with his. It was like electricity illuminating a pitch dark room.

Visiting his hometown made Louis feel happy but sad at the same time. Whilst remembering the good memories, the realizations of what his life could have been brought down his mood. Not even Harry’s presence made him feel any better. But he was surprised to find there wasn’t much of a drastic change, comparing to how he remembered it.

He had delved so deep into his thoughts that Louis didn't realize that Harry had slowed down, approaching the park. The faint memory began to flood back to him. Harry parked the car and killed the ignition. He and Louis unlock their doors, stepping out. Harry motions for Louis to follow him back toward the trunk.

Harry opens the trunk, Louis steps around, his eyes instantly landing on the picnic basket and the footie that appeared to be brand new. Harry picks it up, spinning towards Louis.

“I remembered what you said a month ago about playing football, so I figured you must be good at it. Plus, I also assumed it would make you happy to be able to play it again.”

“Harry.” Louis gives him a look. “You didn't have to. Plus, I'm not even properly dressed. I don't want to ruin your clothes.” He wasn’t so sure skinny jeans and a t-shirt were proper attire to play football.

Harry gives a dismissive wave. Beginning to turn around to the field with two nets.

“I can always wash them.” He shuts the trunk, then proceeding onto the grass toward the field. Louis follows closely behind him.

Harry drops the ball onto the grass as they reach the center of the field, then turning to face Louis.

“Ready?” Harry kicks the ball in the center, stabilizing it between them both. Louis shrugs.

“I don’t know if I still have it in me.” He places his hands on his hips, staring down at the ball between their feet. “But it’s worth a try, who knows when I’ll get this opportunity again.” He lifts his foot up, kicking it away from Harry, then chasing after it. Harry, taken completely off-guard, chases Louis who's aiming towards the net.

Louis softly chuckles as Harry attempts more than once to steal the ball from him. He guessed he shouldn’t have underestimated himself.

“Oh come on,” Harry complains, as he fails once again. Louis shoots into the net.

“Did you really underestimate me?” A smirk curves up onto Louis’ face as he spins back around to face Harry.

Harry shakes his head, heaving a few labored breaths. “Not really," he scoffs.

Louis turns around to grab the ball out of the net. He kicks it over to Harry.

They both continued to run around the field for fifteen minutes. Harry felt as if he were losing his breath already, trying to keep up with Louis who wouldn’t spare him a break. The frigid air nipping at his skin didn’t help either. His lungs burned at every breath he took. Once Louis stole the ball from him again, he bent over, placing his hands on his kneecaps, trying to steady his labored breathing.

Quickly realizing that Harry wasn’t chasing him, Louis spun around in his tracks to see him, who appeared to be exhausted already.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes, fixing his posture and standing back up straight. Louis gave a dismissive wave, then fixing his fringe. “Now where were we,” Harry huffs, darting past Louis and shooting the ball into the net. He spins around, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking.

“Nice one,” Louis comments. Harry grabs it out of the net, kicking it back toward Louis who darts away. Harry chases after him.

They both unintentionally collide, Louis falling backward onto the grass, Harry on top of him. They both break out into a laughter. Harry begins to stare down at him with such admiration and fondness that it was beginning to become too much to handle for him. He could feel his heart began to swell.

“I love you,” Harry whispers, the corners of his lips curving upward. He was surprised by how easy those words slipped off his tongue. As he continued to lie on top of him, a bit of sexual tension began to rise between the two. “And I want to fuck you so bad.”

Louis, so mesmerized by Harry, didn’t even comprehend the last words he had said as quickly as he should have. The sun started to set, and this definitely wasn’t the place for them to strip naked.

“I’m quite sure being naked in public is a felony,” Louis objects, softly chuckling.

Harry shakes his head. “In my car, obviously.” He slides off of Louis, standing up and grabbing the footie. They proceed back to Harry’s car. Harry unlocks the trunk, throwing the footie in. He glances at the picnic basket, but he wasn’t hungry yet. The lunch was rather filling.

 

* * *

 

“The house drove him insane,” Jay spoke, “He was fine the first month or two, then I guess his mind began to spiral out of control.” She picks up the hot mug, taking a sip of the warm tea. Anne continued to sit there silently and listen. “He never bothered to tell me, instead one night I guess he was driven to the extreme point and then it was all over.” Her eyes broke away from Anne’s, falling down to the table. “He’s probably never getting out of prison.”

“Did he show any signs when you were with him?” Anne asks.

Jay shakes her head. “Not often. But if he told me the house was driving him crazy it all would have been avoided.” She quickly realized that she was being a hypocrite, considering that she wouldn’t believe in the existence of ghosts or anything supernatural no matter how many times Louis insisted. Now she understands how foolish she had been.

“I’m so sorry,” Anne says, carefully setting down her mug on the table. “That’s devastating.” A chill slithered down her spine, processing the unimaginable story of horrific events. Jay sets her mug down on the table, her eyes directly flicking up to Anne’s.

“This house is cursed. It’s possessed. You need to leave as soon as you can. I know I shouldn’t be telling you to move out this soon, especially considering Louis and Harry have grown quite close together, but I can’t let anyone else lose their lives on this property.” She pauses and inhales a breath, exhaling slowly, gazing up at Anne gravely. “Knowing Louis, he will be very angry with me, but you can’t take any chances. I’m only trying to protect you and your family.”

A long, tension-filled silence hung in the air between them. Anne could feel goosebumps rise all over her skin, an unsettling ambiance growing in the room. The hot mug, engulfed by her hand is the only way to provide her warmth at the moment, along with calming her nerves a bit.

The sounds of things hitting the front exterior of the house broke the unsettling, long silence. It instantly grabbed Anne’s attention. Her head snapped upward in the direction of the front door.

“Please excuse me.” She stands up and hurries out of the room, advancing towards the front door. She pulls it open to see two preteen boys standing on the lawn, both holding an egg carton and throwing eggs at the house.

“Hey!” she angrily shouts, stepping outside toward the two boys. Her gaze turns down toward the three pumpkins by the door that she, Harry and Gemma carved a few days ago to see they were smashed. She scoffs, shaking her head.

Startled, the boys laugh and spin around, darting out off the lawn and out of the gate before Anne could do anything else. She watches them as they run in the direction of the house next door. She remembers that Tanya lives there, so they must be her two boys she mentioned.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Anne spins around and walks back inside, shutting the door behind her.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes, returning back to the kitchen. “These kids were-” Before she could finish her sentence, she immediately notices that the chair where Johannah was sat is empty.

 

* * *

 

Music played on the radio, which reverberated throughout the vehicle. Harry’s two fingers were pressed deep into Louis’ arsehole, occasionally rotating his wrist. His finger inches towards Louis’ prostate. Louis bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a cry, feeling Harry’s fingers proceed deeper.

“You’re so tight,” Harry murmurs. He removes his fingers from Louis’ bum, then with his other hand, reaching to grab the lube off the console. Louis situated himself onto his back, watching Harry squirt the lube onto his hand. Harry rubs his hands together, then massages it over his cock.

“You keep lube in your car?” Louis snickers, his chest vibrating.

Harry nods, spreading Louis’ legs wider. Louis propped his legs up, pressing his feet down on the seat to save room for Harry, who kneels on the seat.

“Why not? You never know when you’re going to need it.” He spreads the extra lube on his hands over Louis’ arsehole. He wraps his hand around his cock, positioning it and carefully sliding into Louis’ bum.

Because this was very new to him, Louis cries out weakly, but chews down on his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. He wasn’t used to being stretched this wide. Harry slowly and steadily thrusts, his head falling forward and leaning downward towards Louis, their lips connecting. Harry’s messy hair fell over his eyes, clouding his vision, but tickling Louis’ forehead.

Several throaty, tiny moans escaped both their mouths as their lips moved in sync. Louis could feel his cock become hard as it bounced off his lower stomach, Harry’s body occasionally pressed it against his abdomen.

“Faster and deeper,” Louis begs Harry into his ear. It wasn’t enough for him, he craved more. Obeying, Harry slams himself deeper into Louis’ body and speeds up. A cry emits from Louis’ throat, his hips bucking upward against Harry.

Louis’ head rolls back onto the seat. He lifts his hand up, wrapping it tightly around his own cock and gliding his hand up and down in a slow, steady motion. Harry moves down to his neckline, leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses. He maneuvers his lips and often his tongue around Louis' perfectly defined collarbones.

“Fuck,” Harry cursed, his breathing labored. The hot atmosphere surrounding them causes his skin to begin to glisten with sweat, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of this moment.”

A smile curves up onto Louis’ face. He begins to pump himself faster, the pink head popping out of the foreskin at every stroke. He arches his back, his chest coiling and unfurling. Several whimpers escaped his throat; the feeling of Harry pounding into him, his balls slapping against his bum, causing him to see stars in his eyes, clouded his vision.

“Oh my God, Harry,” he gasps, Harry’s thrusts becoming rougher, more sounds involuntarily emitted from his throat. “I never realized...how thick you were...until now.” It took him several breaths to form the sentence.

A chuckle emits from Harry, vibrating against Louis’ cheek. He leans back upward, throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. Harry’s hands traced up and down Louis’ chest, purposely avoiding the scars. He leans downward again, pressing their foreheads and trembling lips together, Harry’s tongue dipping into Louis’ mouth.

“I--fuck,” Louis whimpered, losing his coherent sentence as he breaks away from Harry’s lips. He glanced downward at his cock in his small hands, wet with precome. “Harry,” he whined, feeling Harry’s cock itch towards his prostate. Harry continued to heave labored breaths, exhaling onto Louis’ glistening skin.

“Do you like that, Lou?” Harry pants into his ear, “Do you...like it when...I fuck you like this?”

Louis attempts to weakly nod, pain and exhaustion writing itself across his face.

“H-Harry,” he croaks out, his voice more pitched, but gruff than he expected. His trembling hand grasped Harry’s, interlocking their fingers. “Please tell me--,” his breath wheezes out of his throat as he heaves another, “--you will never leave me.”

Any rational thought clouded Harry’s mind. He could only nod to Louis’ request. He only wanted Louis, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else at the moment. Harry stared down into Louis’ electric blue eyes, which gazed back at him.

“I could never leave you,” Harry exhales, his voice throaty and deeper than usual. His balls loudly slapped against Louis’ bum as he continues to roughly slam his cock into his small body at a faster pace. He didn’t know how much energy he still could spare, feeling it vanish quickly. He knew he was close, but he didn’t want to just yet.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” Louis pants, trying to steady his uneven breathing pattern.

Harry shrugs, unable to give an answer. He clasps his other hand into Louis’, lifting both hands and holding them both behind Louis’ head to provide him more balance as his hips continued to snap backwards and forwards.

Harry suddenly thought of people walking up to or alongside the car, but he brushed it off, he couldn’t worry about it now. The bright moonlight illuminated through the window, onto Louis, which made the sweat he’s caked in much more obvious.

Louis fixed his damp fringe, pushing it back into his hair. He feels Harry let go of his one hand, watching it as it maneuvers down to his cock as Louis continued to pump it with great speed.

Harry’s fingers began to tease Louis’ balls. His eyes flick up to see a new, surprised look across Louis’ face, staring down at Harry. His eyes bulging out as Harry proceeded. Louis is on the brink of desperation, Harry’s new idea only pushed him farther. Harry smirked, observing the new expression across Louis’ glistening face. He could only feel satisfaction, knowing he’s pushing Louis to the breaking point.

“F-fuck, Harry,” Louis whimpers, clenching his eyes shut, throwing his head backward. “You are--so amazing.” A smile curved upward onto Harry’s face, seeing Louis coming closer. Harry glanced downward to see the pink, throbbing head of Louis’ cock popping out of the foreskin as Louis’ hand promptly glides up and down. He could only wonder who was going to come first.

Harry noticed how Louis appeared a bit dazed, but he couldn’t blame him. He knew he had to be seeing stars from how roughly he was thrusting, and he didn’t slow down his pace. Harry could feel an exhaustion sweep over him, but he refused to succumb to it just yet. They were going to be well spent after this.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry gasps, his eyes widening. “I-I’m g-gonna come.” He stutters over the sentence, trying to hold himself back. Louis picks his head up again, gazing at Harry. Before he could say anything, he realizes too.

“Looks like we’re both gonna come together,” he laughs. His lungs burned from all the heavy breathing. He felt his cock twitch in his hand.

“Come for me,” Harry begs, “Do it.” A painful expression plasters itself across Louis’ face, his jaw clenched, his head falling backward again. “C’mon, Lou.” Harry lets go of his balls, his fingers snaking up towards Louis’ throbbing cock to pressure him. His thumb traces over the wet tip.

“I-I don’t want to. I’m afraid I’ll come too fast,” Louis protests, shaking his head. “Fucking hell.” He kept trying to hold himself back, no matter how Harry continued to tease him to drive him over the edge.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, come spurts out onto his stomach. Louis shudders and he clenches his eyes shut, his jaw hangs open.

Before it was too late, Harry withdraws immediately. He holds his cock upright in between him and Louis, pumping and giving it a tight squeeze. Come immediately spurts up and onto his and Louis’ stomachs.

“Fuck,” he pants, feeling his limbs go weak. He throws his head back, and stares up at the roof. “That was amazing,” he says breathlessly. They both remained shocked for what felt like minutes, neither of them found the energy to utter a word, only their loud, labored breaths were heard.

Before Harry collapses beside Louis, he grabs a roll of paper towels off the floor, ripping off a piece and cleaning his and Louis’ stomachs off. He then collapses beside Louis, unable to find the energy to pick himself back up. He situates himself to lie on his side.

“You good?” Louis asks him, his voice deeper than he imagined to be, turning his head to see Harry, exhausted and well spent.

Harry nods, but doesn’t say anything. He turns his head up to see Louis’ eyes blazing on him.

“You were great,” Harry comments, grinning. “Really great.” He continues to inhale and exhale breaths, trying to steady his breathing.

“So were you,” Louis responds, the corners of his lips curving upward. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such amazing sex before.” He folds his arms and hands behind him, his head lying on his hands. They both continued to lie there, Harry’s hand placed on Louis’ torso. The only sound to be heard was the sound of their irregular breathing and the music playing on the radio.

“Is this Modern English?” Louis hears the first several verses of the familiar song as it plays on the radio.

“I believe so.” Harry continues to listen to the song. He recognized it as _Melt With You_. He liked the song, it reminded him of him and Louis.

“I think I remember when this song came out.” Louis softly chuckles, the good memories revisiting him. “Those were good times,” he huffed.

Harry, glad that they decided to eat their dinner he had packed before they fucked, is too exhausted to do anything at the moment. He wanted to continue to lie there with Louis, maybe for the rest of the night. He remembered how Louis begged him never to leave him, and he questioned if he were actually serious.

“Were you serious when you asked me to never leave you?” Harry questions, staring at him. Louis turns his head back to him, hearing the question.

He shrugs. “I guess. I mean, it was the heat of the moment.” He was aware that he probably would hurt Harry’s feelings if he took back what he said. All the craziness brought his mind to forget who he is - what he is. He could feel his mood sink, understanding that the chances of him and Harry lasting together are impossible. Louis brought his right arm down, wrapping it around Harry, holding him close.

Harry positioned his head on Louis’ shoulder, sliding towards his collarbone, his eyes failing to stay open, no matter how many times he tried to keep himself awake.

“Today was better than I expected,” Louis says, noticing Harry starting to fall asleep in his arms. “I don’t know how to thank you, especially for spending the entire day with me, which I didn’t expect you to.”

Harry responds with a crooked smile. His eyelids shut over his eyes for the final time, his surroundings drowning out as he started to fall into a deep slumber.

 

*

 

Louis’ eyes flickered open. Almost immediately he turns his gaze down to see Harry, his eyes closed, still sleeping. He grabs Harry’s phone off the console, turning it on to see that it was five-thirty a.m, meaning the sun would be rising soon. He was aware of what this meant for him, if they didn’t return to the house before the sun rose in the sky. He sets Harry’s phone back down.

“Harry,” he whispers, trying to wake him. He lifts his left arm up, resting it on his shoulder, lightly shaking his body. Harry’s eyes remain closed, his sleeping figure not waking. Having no luck, Louis begins to quicken his speed, roughly shaking him.

“Wha-” Harry murmurs drowsily, feeling a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. His eyes snap open to see Louis staring down at him, alarmed. “What’s going on?” he musters, with a deep, sleepy voice.

“We have to go,” Louis announces. “The sun will be up soon. I won’t make it back to the house with you if we don’t leave now.” He sits upward, reaching forward and quickly grabbing his clothes out of the passenger seat.

Harry and Louis quickly dress themselves as fast as they could. Harry pulls out of the parking lot and jumps on the highway, heading back toward Oxford. The sun begins to peak over the horizon, the sky turning an orange-yellow. Harry begins to doubt they would return in time.

“If the sunrise beats us, just wait for me to get back,” Harry says, briefly glancing at Louis.

Louis nods. He lifts his hand up, it snaking towards Harry’s, which wasn’t on the steering wheel at the moment. He clasps their hands together, grasping his hand tightly. He knew it was inevitable, and he wanted to appreciate the last few moments of his freedom with Harry. He also didn’t know what to expect next year, if Harry would even be in his life anymore.

The sun continued to rise in the sky, blinding Harry a bit. He felt Louis’ grip on his hand tighten, not wanting to let him go.

“I think we both need to take a shower,” Harry remarks, the potent scent of sweat hanging in the air around them.

Louis nods. His face scrunches up in disgust, finally noticing the strong odor. He decides to roll the window down to let fresh air in and circulate the stuffy and smelly air around them.

“Yesterday was fantastic,” Harry beams, “If only we could have done a bit more, but other than that I’m happy how the day turned out.” Before he could continue, he notices an empty feeling in his hand that Louis was holding. He briefly glances over to see that the seat is now empty. The smile falls from his face, turning into a frown as he turns his eyes back toward the road.


	7. VII

Louis sits down on Harry’s bed, heaving a deep sigh. His eyes drop down to the floor, folding his hands and resting them on his lap. He could only continue to wait for Harry now. Sunlight began to pour through the curtains, resting on the wood planks in the floor. There’s not a sound to be heard in the room, it was so silent it began to bother him.

The sound of the door creaking open causes his head to jolt upward and cranes in the direction of the doorway. Lottie snakes her way in, trying to cause as little as sound as possible.

“Hey,” she says, stepping into the room and approaching her brother. “Where have you been for the past twenty-four hours? You never told me you were going out, especially for the whole day.” She sits down on the duvet beside him.

“Out an about,” Louis responds, his tone dismal. He continued to avoid eye contact, his eyes remaining on the floor. “Me and Harry, we planned a whole day together.” He finally lifts his gaze up, meeting hers.

She laughs, well aware that they spend a lot of time together already.

“You both have been attached at the hip.” A smile crosses her face. “But I’m glad that you’re genuinely happy. After all these years, you deserve it.” She watches as a smile finally plasters itself across his face.

“Thank you.” Louis lifts his arm up, wrapping it around her shoulders, hugging her close to him.

Lottie’s face scrunches up in disgust, now noticing a potent odor radiating from Louis.

“What is that putrid smell?” She pushes herself away from him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “We had a wild night last night.” He tries to hide his face as his cheeks flush. 

She chuckles and shakes her head, understanding what he’s trying to imply. 

“You should really get a shower.” She slides away from him, grimacing and waving her hand back and forth in front of her face.

Louis considers her suggestion, but he’s afraid to startle Anne or Gemma if they’re home. Harry wasn’t back yet, and he’s afraid to frighten them, hearing the shower turn on from upstairs. But he wasn’t so sure he could wait until Harry returns to jump in the shower. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand the overwhelming odor.

Louis steps into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Water pours from the shower head, starting to heat up. He pulls his shirt up and over his head, undressing. He tosses it onto the floor. 

Before he could unbutton and unzip his jeans, he hears footsteps in the hallway becoming louder as they approach Harry’s bedroom. He freezes, spinning around to see Gemma step into Harry’s room, turning in his direction.

She instantly stops in her tracks, seeing a familiar head of hair in the bathroom. Louis pokes his head out the door, and they both make eye contact.

“I didn’t know if Harry returned and he snuck in without me knowing,” she says, quickly growing uncomfortable. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I was afraid of startling or confusing you or your mum.”

Gemma waves it off, trying not to be bothered. Even though she had grown fond of Louis, she assumes that the ghost predicament is what made her still feel uneasy.

“Where is Harry, by the way?” she asks, wondering how he managed to be back if he and Harry were together the whole day yesterday.

“He’s probably still driving back. See, when the sun rises the day after Halloween I’m immediately sent back here if I’m not on the property. I have no control over it.” His lips turn into a frown.

“Oh,” Gemma murmurs, a bit dismayed. She takes a step backward to leave the room. “I’ll leave you alone now.” She turns around and exits.

Louis closes the door, continuing to undress. He tosses the rest of his clothing in a pile besides the door.

He steps into the tub, and hot, steamy water rains down on him. As gross as he thought it sounded, he can’t remember the last time he’s taken a shower. He grabbed the shampoo off the shelf, squirting the coconut scented shampoo onto his hand then lathering it onto his hair. Regardless of Harry’s presence, Louis didn’t think he would mind if he borrowed his shampoo and body wash. After all, Harry did mention they both should get a shower anyway.

 *

Anne wakes up to the sound of the shower running from the bathroom connected to Harry’s bedroom. To her, this means he must be finally home, causing her to become excited, but also relieved. She sits upward, pushing the duvet back and swinging her legs over onto the floor.

She stands up, proceeding towards the door and opening it. Anne steps out into the hallway, seeing Gemma exit her bedroom.

“Is Harry home?” Anne asks her, but she shakes her head.

“No, not yet. The sound you hear coming from the shower is Louis.” Her tone of voice is cheerless. Anne doesn’t ask how Louis is here, but not Harry. Instead, she decides to advance downstairs. 

She steps into the kitchen, but heard the sound of the front door unlocking and opening, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. Anne spins around on the balls of her feet to see Harry step through the doorway. She felt a wave of relief flow through her, glad to finally see her son after a whole day. 

Harry holds a shopping bag full of clothes he bought for Louis, deciding to stop along the way and buy new clothes for him. He shuts the door behind him and turns around to see his mum standing in the entrance to the kitchen, relieved to finally see him. 

“I'm so glad you're back,” she exhales, stepping towards him. Harry peels off his jacket and hangs it up on the hook. “I was starting to become worried.”

He sets the shopping bag on the bottom step of the staircase, then wraps his arms around his mum, hugging her close to his chest. 

“I didn't expect to be out the whole entire day,” he says, trying to apologize for not letting her know of his whereabouts, “I should have called or texted you to let you know.” 

“It's fine,” she huffs, breaking away from the hug. There was an uncertainty laced in her voice, but Harry chose not to ask. 

He starts up the staircase to his bedroom. Harry still felt quite exhausted, well aware he didn't get much sleep last night. As he continues to climb up the staircase, he starts to decides whether to take a shower or crash onto his bed and take a nap. 

Harry notices the door is open a sliver. He pushes it open farther and steps in, his eyes immediately landing on the back of Louis, wearing a towel around his waist, who stands facing Harry’s underpants drawer, rummaging through it. He freezes, spinning around on the balls of his feet to see Harry enter. His eyes drop down to the plastic bag he's holding in his hand.

“Long time no see,” he jokes, watching Harry set the bag on the bed. He starts to search through it, grabbing an item out.

“I decided to stop along the way and buy some clothes for you,” Harry announces, holding up a pack of underpants. “I guessed your size, hopefully I'm right.” The corners of his lips curve upward. 

Louis’ jaw drops, taken aback. He didn't expect Harry to buy anything for him.

“Harry, you didn't have to,” he protests, taking the package as Harry hands it to him. Harry gives a waver of his hand, brushing it off as no big deal. He dips his hand back into the bag, grabbing out a tee and Adidas sweat pants. He sets them down on the bed for him.

Louis understood that the brand new clothes Harry set on the bed were for him, but he couldn't accept them, knowing he must have spent a lot. He had been stunned by Harry’s generosity.

“I’m not telling you how much I spent,” Harry softly chuckles. “It’s not that I mind sharing my clothes with you, I just thought you needed clothes that seemed to fit more your style. But we also shouldn't be sharing underpants, either.”

“Thanks,” Louis musters, still taken aback. He opens the pack of underpants, pulling out a pair.

Harry tosses the bag in the trash can, then sits down on the bed. He continues to stare at Louis, who turns his back to Harry and drops the towel from around his waist on the floor. Harry couldn't help but stare at his curvy body, especially his bum - so perfect and round. He could feel himself become turned on, but tried to push the thoughts away. Last night had made him quite exhausted, and he wasn't in the mood. 

Louis could feel Harry’s eyes blazing onto his back. He proceeded to get dressed, unbothered. It's not like they haven't seen each other naked before already. 

Harry swings his feet up onto the duvet, situating himself up against the headboard. He yawns, exhausted.

Louis turns back around to see Harry obviously struggling to stay awake. He grabs the shirt off the bed, ripping the price tag off and sliding it over his head. 

“You look exhausted,” he remarks, surveying Harry. “You should take a nap.”

Harry shrugs. “I'm trying to figure out if I should take a shower first or a nap instead.” He felt grimy and knew he smelled of sweat, mostly from last night. But his exhaustion started to cloud his mind. Harry sets his hand down beside him on the duvet, his gaze flicking up to Louis, signalling him to plop down beside him.

Louis situated himself beside Harry. Harry twists his body and leans in toward him, pressing his lips against Louis’. They stay lip-locked for several seconds until Harry breaks the kiss and decides to repeat what he said earlier.

“Like I said earlier as you disappeared, I had a great time yesterday.” Harry could feel a smile curving itself up on his face.

“So did I,” Louis says, the corners of his lips curving upward into a grin. “And we ended the day just perfectly.” 

“If only we had more days like that.” Harry sighs, tearing his gaze away from Louis, dropping to the duvet. “Twenty-four hours isn't enough.” 

Louis shakes his head, agreeing. He notices the sweaty odor emanating from Harry, causing his face to twist in disgust. 

“I suggest you take a shower first.” He slides away from Harry, who laughs.

“If only you waited for me.” He implied the idea of showering together, but Louis didn't react to it. He swings his legs over onto the floor to leave Harry’s room. Harry takes this as he should get in the shower.

 *

Anne and Gemma sit at the kitchen table, discussing the plans for tonight. 

“Does Harry know yet?” Gemma asks, curious about her brother and how he reacted or will react.

Anne shakes her head. “No, not yet. I wasn't planning on telling him until we leave, I'm afraid he will try to sabotage it if I tell him now because knowing him, he will refuse and do something.” Anne hates the fact it's come down to this. But she refused to live in this house any longer, especially taking Johannah’s words into strong consideration.

The doorbell rings, causing Anne to jump out of her skin. She slides the chair out and stands up, proceeding towards the door. 

Anne unlocks and pulls the door open to see Tanya standing on the doorstep. 

“Hi,” Tanya blithely says. “I felt it was necessary to stop over and apologize for my sons last night.” 

“Oh,” Anne murmurs, before she could say anything else, Tanya continues. 

“They have an obsession with this house, only God knows why.” The uneasy look crosses her face, as if she had an idea. 

“Thankfully they didn’t do much damage,” Anne huffed, trying not to appear as bothered as she actually is. Tanya surveys the foyer, exhibiting distaste, then takes a step backward toward the door. 

“Well, I should go now,” she says, inching towards the door. “I’ll do something about my sons and their obsession with this house.” She opens the door and leaves on her own before Anne could say anything. 

Anne turns back around once she shuts and locks the door behind Tanya. She proceeds into the kitchen to see Gemma holding a bag of crisps she had gotten from the pantry. 

“Who was that?” she asks, sticking her hand into the bag and grabbing out some crisps. 

“It was Tanya,” Anne responds, a bit of disdain in her voice. She sits down in the chair again. 

Although Gemma’s not as familiar with her, she is aware of who she is, and thought she’s a peculiar person. As a result of the doorbell ringing, it broke her train of thought, and she forgot what they were talking about. She decided to leave the room and prepare for their plan tonight.

Gemma advances up the staircase and towards her bedroom. She hears laughter coming from Harry’s room, which impelled her to briefly take a glimpse through the door that had been left open a sliver.

Her face falls into a frown, seeing how happy Harry and Louis seemed at the moment. She felt her stomach twist into a knot, thinking about tonight. Gemma knew Harry won’t take it well. It ached her to tear him away from Louis knowing how happy Harry is with him.

Before either of them could potentially spot her, she jets into her bedroom. She crashes onto her bed, turning to the framed photograph on her nightstand of she and Harry riding a horse together when they were both very young.

A young girl, around twelve years old with long, dark brunette hair that cascades over her shoulders appears in the reflection of the frame. Gemma’s head snaps to the right so fast she could feel a bit of whiplash. To her dismay, there was nobody to be seen. She spins back to the frame to see nothing in the reflection. She swallows hard, a tad miffed.

 

* * *

 

The last light of the sun lit Harry’s room before it disappeared for the night. He shuts off his stereo and ejects the disc, setting it back into its case and sticking the case back on the shelf. He turns back around to see Louis had taken his shirt off. Harry had trained himself to ignore the scars on his chest, understanding how much more confident Louis had become around Harry with being shirtless.

Harry steps towards him, lifting his hand up, sliding it underneath Louis’ jawbone. He presses his lips against Louis’, staying lip locked for several seconds. Harry breaks the kiss, smiling and lightly chuckling, gazing down into Louis’ deep blue eyes.

“You wanna go for round two?” Louis almost laughs, jumping to a conclusion that Harry wanted to fuck again judging by how he acted in the past minute.

Harry shakes his head. “No, actually.” He lifts his other arm up, placing it on the other side of Louis’ jaw, imitating his other hand. “I just want to stay close to you. Lie beside you for the whole night.” He lets his hands drop to his waist and he sits down on his bed. Harry, glad that he brushed his teeth beforehand, wouldn’t want to interrupt the intimate scene now.

They both situate themselves underneath the duvet. Harry reaches over to his nightstand and shuts his lamp off. His head crashes against the pillow, beside Louis. Their bodies were centimeters apart.

“Question,” Louis announces. “When will it be my turn to fuck you?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” The corners of Harry’s lips curve upward. “Don’t rush yourself. But it must feel weird sticking your dick somewhere else that’s not a vagina.” His nose scrunched up in disgust, the thought of heterosexual sex invading his mind.

Louis shrugged. “It’s been almost twenty five years - the last time I’ve had sex. It doesn’t feel weird at all.” He scoffs.

“That’s brutal,” Harry remarks, knowing that not having any sex in over two decades must feel strange.

Louis shrugs again. “It’s easy to not think about doing human activities when you’re alone and don’t have anyone to screw around with.”

An awkward silence begins to hang in the air between them, causing Harry to want to change the subject. But he doesn’t, and flips onto his side, shutting his eyes. He feels Louis’ arm snake over his waist and reaching his chest, holding him close to his body.

It’s not until an hour and a half later that Louis feels a hand placed on his shoulder, shaking him to waken. His eyes slowly peel open, turning his head to see Phoebe standing by his side of Harry’s bed.

“Mum needs to talk to you,” she says, in a low whisper to avoid waking Harry. Louis briefly glances back to Harry, who now lies on his back. His arm had still been positioned on Harry’s chest.

“Does it need to be right now?” Louis asks, keeping his voice low, showing annoyance in his tone. He was rather comfortable and didn’t feel like getting himself out from underneath the bedsheets and leaving Harry. He’s also not sure if Harry would notice his absence.

She nods, then indicating that he must go now. Rolling his eyes, he slowly and carefully takes his arm away from Harry’s chest, snaking backwards and lifting the duvet up. He swings his legs over onto the floor. Before walking away, Louis glances back at Harry’s docile, sleeping figure, and sighs. He turns back around, exiting Harry’s room without a sound.

 *

 Harry’s eyes snap open to the feeling of his body being roughly shaken. His eyes immediately focus and land on Gemma, her arm placed on his bicep. She stops once his eyes open.

“We need to go. Now,” she announces, setting his duffel bag beside his feet underneath the sheets.

“Wait what?” Harry groggily manages, not understanding. He immediately notices Louis’ absence, which he found peculiar. He cranes his neck back to his sister who remains standing by his bed. Harry sits upward, pushing the duvet back.

“I’ll explain everything when we get out to the car. Just pack a set of clothes.” Harry noticed how rushed she appeared to be, by how she carried out her words. Considering he just woke up, he was having trouble processing the situation. But he still obeyed her.

“Where’s mum?” he asks her. It was the only question that surfaced in his mind.

“She’s downstairs, getting everything ready.”

Gemma raced out of his room once he finished packing his clothes. Harry darted after her, not stopping. He had no idea what was going on, and wanted to know immediately. He hoped it wasn’t what he thinks it is.

Harry spots a familiar face by the staircase as he races down the hallway. His arms were crossed over his chest. By the time he reaches the staircase, Gemma already reached the bottom step and disappeared.

He freezes in his tracks, his eyes meeting the solemn blue ones. A look of betrayal is written across his face, causing Harry to feel as if he’s being punched in the stomach. Harry’s gut wrenched as Louis’ eyes pierced into him. Harry couldn’t find a single word to utter. The silence between them was deafening, and it only caused the knot in Harry’s stomach to tighten more.

“Harry?” The voice that belonged to his mum startled him as she called his name up the staircase. He swallowed hard, then brought himself to break the gaze with Louis. He hurries down the staircase to see his mum and Gemma standing at the door.

Anne swings the door open, ushering her kids out first. She shuts the door behind her as she’s the last to step out. She darts ahead of them, down the steps and towards the gate. Her heart was in her throat at every step she took.

Two figures appear in front of the gate, causing the three of them to come to an immediate halt. Harry recognized the young girl and boy. Her hair was still matted with blood that dripped down the side of her face. The boy shared the same appearance.

“Excuse me, ma'am, but this is private property,” the girl utters. Harry recalled those almost exact words she said to him.

Anne belts out a bloodcurdling scream. A scream that had to have awakened the whole neighborhood.

Gemma doesn’t scream, instead she reacts by taking quick steps backward away from the teenagers and in the direction of the house. She keeps stepping backward until she realizes she can’t anymore, feeling herself come in contact with a body.

The three of them whip around in their footsteps to see a young child. Her left pupil and iris is grey, her ginger hair is messy and tangled. She wore a nice, red dress that stopped at her knees. Gemma’s breath hitches in her throat, unable to find a word to muster.

“Please don’t go,” the girl begs, pouting. She reaches her hand out to grab Gemma’s hand, causing Gemma to belt out a scream, stepping backward.

Harry, not knowing how to react, stands there. He is also terrified, but doesn’t show it. He remembers Louis saying the ghosts enjoy scaring people, and it would give them satisfaction if they knew how he really felt. Harry didn’t know what to do. His eyes trail upwards to the one window to see Louis, watching the whole scene. He doesn’t react when his and Harry’s eyes meet, but only turns around and disappears.

 

* * *

 

Harry sits at the edge of his bed, staring down at the wood planks in the floor between his feet. The morning sunlight poured into his room as it continued to rise into the sky. He continues to inhale and exhale slow breaths, still calming himself down from the event.

The sound of the door creaking open caused his head to snap upward. He expected to see his mum or Gemma, but instead it was Louis.

“You have every right to be upset with me,” Harry begins, as soon as Louis steps into his room. “I don’t mind if you don’t even want to see my face for a week.” His gaze drops back down to the floor in shame.

Louis exhales, sitting down beside Harry. There was no possible way for him to stay mad at him. Louis couldn’t even if he tried. Harry appeared to be more distraught over the whole ordeal than he was.

“I’m not mad at you, Harry,” Louis says, gazing at his side profile. “Maybe I was at first, but I can’t stay mad at you when it’s not your fault.”

Harry finally brings himself to lift his head up and meet Louis’ gaze. Louis attempts a reassuring smile, hopefully to calm Harry down.

“But I broke your promise,” Harry utters, tearing his gaze away again. Louis’ eyebrows knit across his forehead, not aware of what he means. “That I would never leave you. That look you gave me, it was utter betrayal.” Harry finishes, a shiver snaking down his spine remembering how he felt seeing Louis with that face.

Louis gives a dismissive wave. “Again, it's not your fault. It’s my mum's actually. She gave your mum the idea with good intentions, but it didn't turn out as planned.”

There’s footsteps heard walking up the staircase. They stop halfway.

“Harry, could you come downstairs?” Harry hears Gemma ask him from down the hall.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he responds. He exhales, turning back to Louis.

“Don’t tell them anything. What you saw - nothing.”

Harry gives him a questionable look. “Why not?”

“They’ll think you’re mental if you mention anything about ghosts,” Louis continues, “because they’re not real.” He watches as Harry stifles a laugh. He definitely was aware of how odd those words sounded coming from him. “You didn’t move into this house believing that ghosts were real, did you?” He stares at Harry, waiting for a response.

Harry shakes his head, understanding the point that Louis was trying to get across. He remembers ridiculing the idea two months ago, but here he is now, fallen in love with Louis.

“Well, aren’t you my proof?” Harry knows this attempt as a counter argument is pointless, but he says it anyway as a joke.

Louis rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “There’s a reason why we’re called ghosts...they aren’t meant to be seen.”

Harry chooses not to respond to Louis’ contradictory reply, instead he thinks about lying in front of his mum and Gemma. He’s aware of how bad he will make them look, and he’s not sure if he can bring himself to do it.

Step by step he proceeds down the hallway. As much as Louis tried to reassure him, he still didn’t feel right about it. But how Louis made it seem, he didn’t want anyone else to think he’s insane and mentally unstable. He slowly takes his time down the staircase, processing in his head exactly what he’s going to say.

Harry steps into the living room to see his mum, Gemma, and two police officers. They all appeared to be waiting for him. He assumes someone in the neighborhood must have called the police, hearing all the screams.

“Harry, can you repeat exactly what happened last night?” Anne beckons her son.

Harry hesitates. He continues to stand in the entrance to the room, completely still, unmoving. He gulps, feeling the heavy gazes on him as they all waited for a response. 

“I didn’t see anything,” he utters, keeping himself reserved. He could see Gemma and Anne’s faces fall into shock, their jaws dropping as they gape at him. Unable to believe the words that spill out of his mouth.

“B-but Harry,” Gemma protests, expressing confusion. “You were just as terrified. You saw the kids, I know you did.” Knowing he’s lying, her jaw contorts, and she begins to glare at him. But he remained unaffected by her scornful look.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “You were both terrified, so I was too. I didn’t know what to think.”

There are several knocks on the front door. Harry spins around, leaving the room to see who could possibly be at the door in this time of morning.

Harry’s breath is stolen from his chest as soon as he opens the door. Des stands on the doorstep. Harry could tell he seemed worried.

“Hi, dad,” Harry awkwardly says, “What are you doing here?” He stands to the side to invite him inside.

“Gemma texted me,” he responds, stepping through the doorway.

Harry wonders what exactly did she text him, but he doesn’t ask. He only assumes it had to do with the incident last night. It was the only plausible explanation. Harry leads him into the living room.

Anne’s eyes fall on her ex-husband as soon as he enters the living room, stunned to see him.

“Hi, Des,” she says, trying to retain the awkward atmosphere in the room. “What are you doing here?”

“Gemma texted me earlier. She said that something had happened and wanted me to stop over.”

Anne and Harry’s eyes flicked to Gemma, who sat on the couch. She hesitantly nods, timidly. She chooses not to say anything.

“What happened last night?” Des asks, his gaze shifting from Harry, landing on each of the three of them.

“Everything is under control now,” one of the officers say. “Just a small mishap last night. Obviously seeing things that aren’t there.”

Gemma scoffs, but before she could respond with a snappy comeback, the other officer cuts her off.

“You two seem very stressed out, which can lead to hysteria and often hallucinations. You should take it easy.” His attention is on Anne and Gemma as he speaks to them. They look offended, but choose not to challenge the officer. It wouldn’t help the situation, instead it would worsen it if they kept insisting.

Gemma cranes her neck and glares at Harry one more time, furious with him. He responds with an apologetic face.

“I think I have a right to know what has been happening in this house.” Des crosses his arms over his chest. His stern gaze shifts from Harry down to Gemma.

“Nothing bad,” Harry speaks up, before anyone else could. “We’re grown adults now, we can handle ourselves.” As much as Harry tried to reassure his father, Des seemed reluctant to drop it. He knew something was wrong, but everyone ceased to explain.

Harry could feel a pair of eyes burning into his back, but he refused to turn around. Somebody is definitely watching him, but he couldn’t fathom who it could be. Being around Louis so much made him forget that he can meander around the house unseen, so he considered that possibility. But even if he turned around he couldn’t guarantee that he would actually see anyone.

“Obviously there’s something going on or else there wouldn’t be police officers here,” Des objects, keeping the firm scowl. There is no rational explanation in existence to justify the reasoning of planning to escape the house at a strangely odd hour. Harry, Gemma and Anne couldn’t say anything without mentioning the house being haunted, possessed, or dangerous to live in; considering they would be invalidated.

“Listen, Mr. Styles,“ one of the officers begin, immediately grabbing his attention. “Nothing’s going on. Obviously your family thought they saw something which they easily became frightened and overreacted.”

Des chose not to say anything. He knew that their word was final, and he shouldn’t challenge him. All he worried about was if Harry and Gemma were safe and sound, but it appeared as if they were. Though, he wasn’t fully convinced.

 

* *

 

Tanya peers out the front window to see a police car parked at the curb in front of the neighboring house. She shakes her head and sighs, turning around and sitting in the armchair. The screams from last night had awakened her, which intrigued her curiosity. But just now her curiosity had been solved.

She hears footsteps from down the hallway, approaching the living room where she sat. Her gaze snaps upward to see Charles meandering down the hallway and into the living room. He takes a brief glance out the window, then his gaze flicks to his mum. She already started to give the impression she’s displeased with his presence.

“Why is there a police car parked outside?” he asked her. He couldn’t process any reason.

Tanya shrugs. “Only God knows why.” She lifts her gaze up, meeting his puzzled one. She wonders if he had heard the screams, but chooses not to ask.

Disquisitive, he starts to turn around to leave the room. He knew he wanted to investigate. Tanya’s voice stops him almost immediately in his tracks before he could step over the threshold of the living room.

“If you think you’re going to mosey on over there and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, think again.” Tanya sends him a glare of disapproval, blazing onto his back. Sighing, Charles chooses not to disobey her, knowing the consequences. He continues out of the room, but up the staircase.

 

* *

 

Harry steps into the living room again to find Gemma sitting on the couch. A suitcase is placed by her legs. Anne is sat beside her, while Des is standing. It appeared as if they were mid-conversation before he stepped into the room. Before he could say anything, Anne notices Harry and starts talking.

“Harry,” she begins, “Gemma has decided to stay with your dad for a week. Just to get out of this house. But I’ve decided it’s best that I do, too.” She pauses. “You’re welcome to come along, also.” Anne already knew he would refuse, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him know anyway. Anne wasn’t going to stay with Gemma and Des, but instead rent a flat somewhere near Cheshire.

Harry doesn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. The news was rather sudden, and also stunned him. This meant he was going to be home alone, if he decided not to tag along with Gemma.

“Okay,” he murmurs, awkwardly lifting his arm up and scratching the back of his neck. His gaze lifts up from the floor, meeting his dad’s, who appeared as if he wanted him to come with them. Harry was reluctant, however, and he made it obvious.

 *

Shutting the door, Harry meanders into the living room. He stands by the window, his eyes focused on Gemma and his mum, who step off the property. Gemma follows Des to his car, while Anne walks to hers.

Harry could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. It all felt so strange to him. But he wasn’t so sure himself he made the right decision by choosing to stay behind. A part of him kept badgering him to go with Gemma, but he knew it was too late now. But Harry wasn’t so sure he could just leave Louis behind with zero explanation. He’s sure that would piss him off, and for real this time.

Hoping to avoid being seen by either of them, he steps away from the window. He sighs, sitting down on the sofa. The house had quickly become eerily quiet ever since his mum, dad, and Gemma stepped out the door.

It hasn’t hit Harry yet that he’s home alone, and not just for a few hours. But for a few days, maybe a week or longer. He’s aware that there’s a high chance he let them down by choosing to stay. Obviously it wasn’t what Anne wanted to hear, and she would constantly worry about him.


	8. VIII

There are footsteps heard thumping down the hallway, which causes his head to avert upward from his phone and in the direction of the consistent sounds. By the time he fully turns, nobody is to be seen. Harry exhales, turning back down to his phone in his hand.

He sits there for a few minutes, then finally standing up and proceeding out of the living room.

He climbs up the staircase slowly, his feet plodding at every step. Harry feels relieved as he reaches the top, inhaling and exhaling slowly again. He drags his feet down the hall, and through the door. His bedroom looks exactly how he left it before he had been called downstairs by Gemma.

The house seemed desolate. Not a sound to be heard except for Harry’s footsteps that crossed his room, along with the occasional creaking floorboards underneath his feet. It’s not the first time he felt awkward and off-track, but he guessed it’s a result of everything that has happened in the past twelve hours.

He sits down on his bed, staring down at the wooden planks in the floor and heaving a deep sigh. He continues to sit there, deep into thought, trying to think of how he can fill the rest of the long day. Instinctually, he twists his body in the direction of the door to see Louis leaning against the frame.

“How long have you been standing there?” Harry utters, feeling a bit embarrassed if he’s been ignoring his presence.

“Not long, actually.” Louis strides over towards Harry, whose eyes remained attached to him at every step he took. Harry gulps, but he doesn’t know why he seems so nervous, he has no reason to be. Louis notices his peculiar demeanor, which strikes his curiosity.

He slowly situates himself beside Harry. “So, have I missed anything?” The question earned him a look, one that he recognized. He flicks his gaze away from Harry, down to the floor. “I did notice your mum and your sister have left, but I’m not so sure of the context of the situation.”

Harry rolls his eyes, and Louis immediately notices. He scoffs, shaking his head. He understands fully what Harry is trying to get across, and without saying anything.

“You really think I stalk you everywhere you go in this house?” He felt a tad offended that Harry would make such a stereotypical assumption.

Harry shrugs, but chooses not to say anything. He could feel Louis’ blue eyes piercing into him, causing him to grow uncomfortable.

“Can we just move on?” He finally brings himself to speak, begging Louis to drop it. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, especially considering without Louis he’d be truly alone in this house and there’d no point in staying. He didn’t want to sever anymore ties, either.

“Okay, moving on then,” Louis mutters, his tone impudent.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out what to do in the forthcoming days I’ll be here by myself,” Harry mutters, a dismal tone in his voice.

Louis lightly chuckles. “Well, you won’t be entirely alone. You have me.” A small smile tugs itself across his face, attempting to lift Harry’s spirits. “On the bright side, it would be nice to have sex without having to be quiet with your mum and sister in the house.”

Harry shrugs, however he considers his assertion, and had to admit he was right. He also considers that they didn’t necessarily have to in his bedroom either, since he had the house to himself.

“I could also throw a party,” Harry suggests. He remembers that his friends had mentioned that they would like to meet Louis, and this is the only place where they could. Harry was aware that it seemed like a stereotypical teen party you throw when your parents aren’t home.

“I’m up for a party,” Louis chimes almost instantly, beaming.

Harry yawns, just realizing how exhausted he was, mostly from the whole fiasco last night. His lack of sleep over the night also contributed a great deal. He situates himself to lay his head down on Louis’ shoulder.

“Tired?” Louis asks, slightly turning to look at Harry. Harry’s head shifts back and forth, nodding on his shoulder. Louis couldn’t blame him, he sure had a hell of a night.

Harry lifts his head up and draws his phone out of his pocket. He figures he should probably send out the invitations now to his mates about the party he’s planning this upcoming week.

Louis’ eyes travel downward toward Harry’s smartphone in his hand, watching him navigate the device with ease.

“It’s amazing - the technology today,” he comments, still surprised by how advanced and modernized phones have become. He remembers when phones were still attached by cords, where you couldn’t walk too far with them.

Harry nods, his eyes still attached to his phone, typing a message to Ianto. He quickly sends the messages, then sets his phone down beside him on the duvet.

“You know, back in my day we didn’t have iPhones, or iPods.”

Harry rolls his eyes and laughs. The beginning of Louis’ sentence sounded so stereotypical, and what a parent would say to their kid when talking about technology modernizing.

“We had this MP3 player, called a walkman. You would put cassette tapes in it if you wanted to listen to music.” He faintly chuckles, reminiscing in the memories of growing up in the ‘70’s and ‘80’s. He turns his head to see Harry staring at him with the widest smile across his lips.

“I love it when you’re nostalgic about your childhood,” Harry remarks, the smile remaining across his face.

“Really?” Louis was taken aback, not expecting Harry to be this pleased with him rambling on about an outdated device that was now obsolete. He didn’t know if Harry even knew what a walkman looked like.

Harry nods. “But welcome to the twenty-first century, enjoy your stay.” He clearly joked, and he knew it was the perfect time to tease Louis about introducing him to the twenty-first century, considering how clueless he had been at first.

“The world keeps changing, and so fast too,” Louis remarks. It still resembled a culture shock to him, but he had adjusted rather quickly. “Who knows, maybe in twenty years there will be someone else sitting here and we could have this exact conversation.”

Harry tried not to react to his implication that he would be just a memory to Louis. An affair that was short lived and in the end, fruitless. He decided to go a different route, and give him a totally different response than what was intended.

“I’m sure whoever that is won’t appreciate and love you as much as I do,” he whispers, his voice raspy and authoritative, leaning inward towards Louis. Harry purses his lips, then placing them lightly on Louis’ cheek. He slowly maneuvers downward, leaving a trail of kisses as he reaches his neck, then quickening his speed down his neckline.

Louis keeps his mouth shut as Harry buries his face in his neck, leaving sporadic kisses all over. He knew he was doing it on purpose, but because he was becoming slightly turned on, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He throws his head back as Harry continued to kiss and occasionally suck on the skin of his neck. He could feel his cock stiffen underneath his sweats, leaving a noticeable outline as his own hand traced over it because he couldn’t see himself.

Eventually, Harry starts back upward towards Louis’ jaw and mouth. Their lips meet again, and the kiss deepening. Louis could feel Harry’s hand rest on his hardening length underneath his sweats, causing a small moan to escape through his lips. Louis begins to fall backwards onto the duvet, situating his head on the pillow. Harry’s cock grinded against Louis’ as he situated himself in a straddle above him.

The sound of the doorbell downstairs startled both of them. Harry sat upward, then rolling his eyes and reluctantly turning around to slide off the bed. As much as he wanted to ignore it, there’s a possibility it could be someone who knows there’s someone home, and he didn’t want to seem rude.

“Can't you just ignore it?” Louis begs, with annoyance, and also irritated to be disrupted and lose his momentum. His eyes stay glued to Harry’s back as he slides off the bed and starts for the door.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry says, without turning around again. He hopes his boner decreases by the time he reaches the door downstairs. It would be awkward to greet a stranger at your door with a noticeable outline in that area of your pants.

Louis watches as Harry leaves the room. He sighs, glancing down at his sweats and the risen, noticeable outline. He wants to wait for Harry to return, but he’s not so sure he can wait much longer.

He doesn't hesitate to pull his sweats down, then grabbing his length out of his underpants and grasping it tightly. Thoughts about Harry infiltrated his mind as his hand begins to glide up and down his thick and hard length. The pink head pops out of the foreskin at each stroke.

Deciding to quicken his speed, he throws his head back and a moan escapes his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he wanked, and he knew he was going to need one sooner or later. But he wasn’t so sure now was the perfect time, considering Harry could return at any given moment. However, nothing was going to stop him now.

Louis’ laboured breathing started to become louder, especially with each curse word that escaped. He couldn't control his thoughts. The one memory of he and Harry fucking in the back of Harry’s car flooded back to him, increasing his motivation. It being so recent, the images were so vivid in his mind: Harry’s sweaty, perfect abs looming over him at every thrust. Harry leaning downward towards him, leaving a trail of kisses and semi-hickeys all over his skin. The sensation of their skin brushing up against each other.

“Fuck,” he moans softly, harshly biting down on his bottom lip. He squeezes his eyes shut. The more he thought about Harry, his hand speeds up, flying over his throbbing cock.

At the moment he couldn’t care less if Harry walked in on him. He only continued to pump himself, his balls aching. Sweat started to prickle on his temples. His fringe starts to hang over his eyes, but glued to his forehead in a mass of sweat.

He moans a tad louder as he arches his lower back. He clenches his eyes tighter, his chest heaving a pant, the tightness in his stomach writhing and uncoiling at every stroke. He bit down on his lip, so harshly that it drew blood. The only sounds in the room to be heard were his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand flying over his length at a great speed.

Louis could only begin to desire himself taking control and fucking Harry. He wanted to see him shocked, having only being with women and experienced with the opposite sex. But there was nothing like the sex he and Harry had. It was better than he could have imagined. Thinking about it only pushed him farther. As much as he tried to suppress his moans and whimpers, it wasn’t successful.

“Fucking hell,” he curses again, underneath a pant. He also whimpers a little. His arm begins to tremble, giving him the indication that he was close. He hears footsteps from down the hallway, inching closer, but his hand didn’t cease. He couldn’t get himself to stop as his hand only proceeded to click up and down himself diligently.

Louis’ jaw hangs open. His thumb lightly grazes over the tip, finding it wet with precome. He doesn't want to stop. He squeezes himself a bit, causing another soft moan to escape.

“Sorry about that. It was just someone selling-” Harry’s words and his breath are stolen from his chest as soon as he steps through the doorway.

“Get. Out.” Louis grits through his teeth, but his voice was weak over his heavy breathing. It wasn’t until after he blurted those words he realized it wasn’t the smartest move, considering this was _Harry’s_ bedroom and he was wanking on _his_ bed.

“O-Oh, I-I’m so sorry,” Harry stutters over his words, his feet were frozen on the threshold. But this was his bedroom, and he was stunned by Louis’ boldness, demanding him out of it. He could feel his boner start to return, pressing against the tight fabric of his jeans. “Well this is my bedroom,” he huffs, “so I think I’m gonna stay.”

“But it was mine before it was yours,” Louis retorts, his tone audacious. If he was going to be honest, he still perceived it as his room, regardless if it belonged to Harry now.

“Touché,” Harry responds, chuckling at Louis’ response.

Louis rolls his eyes. His hand comes to a halt, unwrapping it from around his length, which bounces against his tummy. He breathes in and out, heaving slow and steady breaths. He was trying so hard not to pump himself knowing he was still hard and close.

Harry climbs onto the bed, inching towards Louis. Louis watches his every move, not taking his eyes off him. Instead of where Harry intended to go first, he spreads Louis’ legs and crawls up between his thighs. He grabs his throbbing cock, wrapping his hand tightly around it. He massages the base, and occasionally tickling his balls

“I’ll make it up to you,” Harry asserts. He opens his mouth, his tongue glided over the pink head. Louis didn’t refuse, instead a loud moan escapes his mouth. Harry’s other hand reaches over to Louis’, grabbing it and placing it near his length to grab it as Harry takes away his.

“Fuck you, Harry,” Louis dryly chuckles, a half smile curving upward on his face. Harry smirks, amused. His mouth sucks at the tip of Louis’ cock. Louis’ eyes clenched tight, his whole body shuddering in response to the little sparks emitting throughout his whole body from his throbbing cock.

At that very moment, Louis knew he was going to come. His eyes pop open. He whimpers, trying to hold himself back. He was afraid to come too fast.

Harry notices how tense Louis grew, and he knows exactly why. He had to push him somehow. Harry wetly pops off, leaving small, wet kisses around and up and down his length. He won’t stop until Louis stops holding himself back. He couldn’t figure out why he always seemed so hesitant to.

At the spur of the moment, come spurts out of Louis’ cock, mostly onto Harry’s face, some onto the duvet. He knows he can always wash his bed sheets later. He’s surprised by how quickly it happened, not even given a chance to move his face out of the way.

Heaving a sigh of relief and starting to finally relax, Louis’ lips curve upward. His eyes fall downward to see Harry’s face covered, and he snickers. He knew he probably should have given him notice.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Harry,” he snickers.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Harry mutters, tasting a bit of the come once he opened his mouth.

Harry situates himself upward, turning to slide off the bed and clean his face off in the bathroom. But he figured he might as well take a shower instead.

“I’m taking a shower,” he announces, starting toward the bathroom.

Judging by the thick outline that remained in his jeans, Louis could only assume he was going to do much more than that, but he chooses not to tease him, knowing it could possibly irk him.

Louis decides to leave Harry’s room as soon as Harry shuts the door behind him and hears the shower turn on. He still feels a bit tingly from the experience not even ten minutes ago. He also felt sweaty, and hoped there wouldn’t be any surprise appearances as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

Quietly, he proceeds down the staircase. He freezes in his tracks as he begins to turn around the corner.

Lottie leans against the wall with her arms crossed, staring at him with the biggest smirk across her face. She had heard enough from upstairs.

“You didn’t hear-”

“Yes, I did,” she cuts him off, snickering. “And I’m sure I’m not the only one who heard you and Harry, either.”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “There’s no privacy in this house.” He didn’t think he was that loud, but he also he hopes she hadn’t seen anything in particular.

She shrugs, then turns around and walks into the living room, sitting down on the sofa and propping her feet up on the coffee table.

Louis follows directly behind her, sitting down in the recliner.

“So, anyway…” he sighs, trying to change the awkward subject. “Harry is planning a party this week.”

“Am I invited?” she eagerly asks, but jokingly.

He nods. “Of course. You didn’t need to ask.”

“When are you going to introduce us? Not including Félicité because she already met Harry.” It’s been almost three months already, and she started to grow impatient and started to wonder when she was actually going to meet him, instead of being a bystander and watching from afar.

“Very soon. I promise this time.” He could sense that she was a little bitter over the fact Félicité has already, and not her. But it wasn’t intended, considering that she walked in on him and Harry.

“Well,” she sighs, “I won’t keep you. I know you probably want to return back to Harry.” She smirks again, but tries to hide it this time.

Louis only softly chuckles, amused. He knew his sister all too well. But he considered the thought he shouldn’t be at Harry’s side all the time, it seemed to be overbearing to him. He also realized he hadn’t seen his siblings as much as he used to, and it was odd considering they all were stuck under the same roof.

Being around Harry so frequently caused him to forget what and who he is. He felt human, which is an odd subject to think about considering he hasn’t felt this way since before he died.

Lottie notices his sudden change of disposition. Her eyebrows pinch, staring at him.

“Is there something wrong?”

Louis immediately responds with a dismissive wave, but it was hard to brush it off as nothing, when it definitely was something.

“I guess it’s the fact ever since I’ve met Harry, I feel as if there’s been a massive difference.” He shrugs, unsure of how to word his next sentence.

“We’ve all noticed,” she speaks up, before he could continue. “And there’s nothing bad about it. If I’m going to be honest, I’m happy that you have met him.”

He couldn’t help but feel a grin grow across his face, hearing her speak.

“Remember that New Year’s Party of ‘87?” she asks, bringing up a memory that felt like forever ago.

Louis nods, lightly chuckling as he reminisces in the lively memory.

“You and your mates got so drunk that you all almost ran around the neighborhood naked.” She attempts to contain her laugh. “Strangely, I still remember the neighbors calling the police because it got too wild.”

“Mum never let me throw another party again,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “I still remember the look of disdain and contempt across Miss Potter’s face when she stood across the street with her arms crossed, staring at us.”

“She was a miserable woman anyway,” she adds, scowling. “Whenever I would leave the house I swear she stared at me from her living room window.” Lottie shudders. Miss Potter always had given her chills down her spine, there was a frigid aura that emanated from her.

 

* * * * *

 

Loud, exhilarating music reverberated throughout the house. There appeared to be people everywhere you walk, attached to the perimeter of every wall. The majority were either drunk or high. The scent of weed was strongly potent in the air. It was about three hours until New Year’s, and the house was full of charged and unwearied young adults who didn’t plan on stopping the party anytime soon.

Johannah had taken Phoebe, Daisy and Félicité to Mark’s for the night. She wasn’t too keen on leaving them around intoxicated young adults, knowing it’s obviously not safe. Because of her age, Lottie had been allowed to stay.

Louis sat on the sofa, Brandi closely beside him, his arm draped around her shoulders. He holds a bottle of beer in his free hand. Considering his drunken state, he had lost count of the amount of bottles he’s already downed.

Matt, Tyler and Anthony saunter into the room, each holding a bottle of beer. It was obvious they were all just as wasted. In unison they all approached Louis, who appeared to be in conversation with Brandi. He broke his gaze with her, flicking his eyes upward toward his mates.

“Fancy a game of truth or dare?” Matt asks, his speech a bit slurred

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you lads played that enough in primary school?” He viewed the game as childish, especially for their age.

Brandi shifts her body, her eyes snapping towards Louis, trying to grab his attention. His eyes drop down to meet hers.

“Oh come on, Lou,” she begs, leaning forward, craning her neck and gaping back at him. “You can’t be that pretentious about a petty game.”

Her eyes continued to burn through him, causing him to ease his views of the game. He sighs, giving in. It wasn’t this easy for him to give into Brandi, but the alcohol skewed his decision-making.

“Fine.”

Matt indicates for Louis and Brandi to follow. They all sit down on the floor. Anthony calls over several other people to join, including Lottie.

Louis takes another swig of his beer as he situated himself on the floor. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. He was well on the verge of becoming wasted.

Tyler scans around the circle, thinking of who to ask and start with. His eyes make a full 360 around the circle, then finally landing on Louis.

“Louis,” he says, his lips curving upward into a smirk. “Truth or dare?”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “Dare.” He wasn’t too fond of either option, knowing how nefarious and perverse his friends can be about this game. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for Tyler to devise a good dare. In the meantime he continued to down his beer, eventually reaching the bottom of the bottle which led him dismayed. He intended to grab another soon, regardless.

“I dare you…” Tyler began, still debating his choice, “I dare you and one other person of your choice to run around the neighborhood naked.” A devilish smile quirks up on his face.

Everyone in the circle fell silent, not uttering a single word. Each one had been stunned by the audacious dare. The music seemed to have drowned out around them.

Lottie’s eyes flicked to Louis, gaping at him. Though she was buzzed, the reasonable part of her mind still existed, and there was no way she was going to allow her brother to do this.

“Okay,” Louis huffed, the request not fully registering in the reason and decision-making part of his brain. He was unaware of the stares he was receiving, especially from Lottie and Brandi.

He stood up, heading into the kitchen to grab another bottle of beer. Lottie stood up as well, following closely behind him. She grabs his arm as they step into the kitchen. He slowly spins around, dazed and wasted.

“I cannot let you do this,” she insists harshly. “One, you will get arrested, and two, mum will murder you.”

He laughs. “You’re funny.” He turns around, grabbing another bottle out of the cooler and snapping the cap off. He takes a swig, brushing past her, strolling back into the living room

Lottie only felt enraged by her brother’s lack of compliance, but if she were going to be honest with herself, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She exhales a deep, exaggerated sigh, turning around and following closely behind him again.

She steps back into the room to find Louis’ shirt missing. Brandi only continued to stare at him, smirking as he continued to undress before her. Her of all people stunned Lottie, she wouldn’t ever think Brandi would go along with it, but then again, Lottie was aware that Brandi had to be wasted also.

 

* * * * *

 

Louis steps out of the bathroom first, wandering over toward the dresser containing the underpants drawer and the closet. Harry steps out behind him, following closely behind Louis.

“I washed a few new pairs for you,” Harry speaks up, indicating towards the dresser Louis was approaching.

Louis nods, acknowledging him. He pulls open the drawer, grabbing out a pair and dropping the towel from around his waist on the floor.

Harry tried not to stare, so he followed him and started to dress also. He was aware that Louis could possibly feel Harry’s eyes on his back, and he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable - if he did.

Harry grabs his phone off his nightstand. He decides to check the playlist he has set up for the party tonight, and if it’s necessary to add any more songs.

“So, I set up a list of songs to play tonight,” Harry announces, his eyes lifting up to see Louis slide one of his shirts from his closet over his head. He turns around to Harry, stepping towards him, his eyes dropping down to his phone in his hand, skimming the list of the names of the songs and the artists.

“I have no idea who half of these people are,” Louis scoffs, but attempting to be humorous. The names of the artists sounded so foreign to him, having never heard of them before. He knew he wasn’t wrong when claiming how different the music is today.

Harry rolls his eyes, handing his phone to Louis. “Feel free to add songs if you’d like. It’s a good idea to have a diversity, anyway.”

Louis gawks at the smartphone in his hand. Having only used his phone once had him feeling confused. He felt embarrassed expressing the bewilderment. Instead, he entered the iTunes store. He briefly glances upward at Harry, who had been observing him.

“What?”

Harry shrugs, giving a dismissive wave. “Nothing.”

Knowing Harry as well as he did, Louis knew it wasn’t nothing, as it definitely had to be something. However, Louis chose not to say anything, and let it go.

* * *

Esther strolls into the living room. Her eyes scanned the area, scoffing at the television and the stereo. She harbored a strong distaste for the modern technology. As she continued to scan the room, she got the idea there was obviously a party planned.

She slowly turns around and is startled to see Johannah step into the room. Esther gapes at her, puzzled and astounded.

“Who are you, and why are you in my house?"

Confounded, Jay gawked at her incredulously. Twenty-six years in this house and this is the first time she and Esther meet face-to-face.

“I live here,” she responds awkwardly, trying to sound polite. She takes several steps towards Esther, who reacted by recoiling backward.

“I beg your pardon?” Esther’s arms cross over her chest, staring at Jay with utter contempt and bewilderment. “It is my home. You do not have any permission to be in it!” she snapped, her voice rising at every word, venom dripping from her tone.

“Esther,” Jay says, in a calming voice. She didn’t want to attract any attention, especially from Harry and Louis, who were upstairs and they could hear yelling if it became any louder. She figured that Esther would have gotten a clue already with all the newer furniture and modernized technology, but apparently she was wrong.

“Get out of my house.” Esther doesn’t let her continue. Her arms fall to her waist. Her blood begins to boil in her veins, her cheeks flushing from all the anger. “I am fed up with you constant intruders.”

There are footsteps heard dashing down the hallway, and eventually heard on the staircase. Sighing, Jay spins around to see Harry appear, then her son closely behind him. Their hair was damp, as if they both had just gotten a shower. Both their heads simultaneously snap in her and Esther’s direction. Jay briefly glances behind her to see Esther missing.

“Is everything okay?” Louis asks his mum. “We both heard yelling and decided to investigate,” He’s aware he cut Harry off, knowing that Harry intended to speak first.

“Yes. Everything’s alright.” She sounded uncertain, and Louis could see that.

He gives her a curious look. Whatever it was she chose not to provide a truthful explanation. Either it’s something she’s not comfortable speaking about or it’s something petty and unimportant. Louis briefly glances at Harry, remembering he hasn’t introduced him to his mum yet. He assumes that Harry is probably confused at the moment.

“Harry.” Louis grabs his attention, motioning towards his mum. Harry’s eyebrows pinched for a brief second, but it didn’t take him long to understand the context. “This is my mum.” The corners of Louis’ lips curve upward.

Harry, feeling on the spot, wished he could have gotten to prepare. He viewed it as an awkward time to meet your love's mum. He was especially taken off-guard.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry chimes blithely, stepping towards her. He lifts his hand up to shake her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too,” There’s a small smile across her face. “I see Louis wasn’t wrong about you,” she asserts as she shakes Harry’s hand, briefly glancing at her son, impressed.

Harry glances at Louis, his eyebrows knitting across his forehead, wondering what he’s been saying about him.

Louis responds with a dismissive wave. “You have nothing to worry about, Harry. You’re the gentleman my mum expected you to be.”

Harry could feel heat in his cheeks, signaling to him that he was blushing a little. He let his arm fall back at his side.

“So, I see you have a party planned tonight,” Jay comments, noticing the setting has altered a little to fit a lot of people along with enough refreshments. Her tone lacked enthusiasm, only remembering the last time a huge party was held here, hosted by Louis and how that turned out.

“It won’t become as crazy as the New Year's party of ‘87.” Louis attempted to assure her. He earned a look from Harry, curious what he was talking about.

“Well,” she exhales, “I hope you both have a lot of fun.” She turns back to Harry, the smile growing across her face again. “It was nice meeting you, Harry.” She left the room and disappeared around the corner.

Harry exhales a long breath he was unaware that he was holding. He slowly turns to Louis.

“She didn’t seem too enthusiastic,” Harry remarks, implying when the New Year’s party was brought up.

Louis cringes, those memories slowly returning. “I’d rather not talk about it. It got too crazy, that’s all you need to know.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirked up, still curious. But he knew that Louis wasn’t going to explain any further. He chooses not to ask.

*

Harry invites his mates inside. They all take off their jackets and hang them up on the hooks by the door.

“Neat place you have,” Ianto remarks, scanning his surroundings as he followed Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry responds, lacking enthusiasm. He noticed Luke’s tense disposition, but Harry chooses not to mention anything about it to him. Knowing Luke, he was reluctant to attend.

“You and Louis still together?” Ianto questions, the thought randomly striking him. He assumed Harry would introduce them obviously. They all step into the kitchen. Harry led them over toward the three coolers placed on the island which stored both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.

Harry nods. “Yeah.” He grabs a beer out of the cooler, snapping the cap off.

“I wonder when I’m finally going to meet the lad,” Eric murmurs, showing a tad impatience. He noticed whenever Louis was brought up, Harry expressed hesitance when speaking about him.

Harry’s eyes flick towards the entrance to the kitchen to see the familiar hair appear, but styled into a quiff.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Harry mutters, taking a sip of his beer. Luke, Eric and Ianto all spin around to see who Harry was speaking of. Harry motions Louis over.

“I suppose you’re Louis?” Eric presumes, being the cordial one he always is and volunteering to shake his hand.

“Yes, that would be me.” Louis nods with a small smile, shaking Eric’s hand. Eric immediately notices the ghostly, freezing touch of his skin, causing him to shudder in reaction.

“Eric,” he says as he lets his arm fall back at his side. There was something about Louis that felt definitely off, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. However, it spooked him a bit.

Harry observed the awkwardness as his mates interacted with Louis. He didn’t know if they could tell that there was something off about him, comparatively to when he first met Louis for the first time and he could feel in his gut that he wasn’t exactly human or an actual living entity.

The doorbell chimed again, causing Harry to be thankful to find an excuse to escape the situation.

Once he invited everyone inside, Harry steps back into the kitchen to find Eric, Luke, Ianto and Louis, who all appeared to be mid-conversation and mildly laughing.

Louis cranes his neck to see Harry step back into the room. He motions him to walk over. Harry could only wonder what they were laughing at.

“It’s just banter, Harry,” Luke speaks up, before Harry could ask. “I can see why you chose him.” He indicates to Louis.

Harry nods, acknowledging him. A small smile curves up on his face.

“So, where did you both meet?” Eric asks, his question more aiming at Harry by how he regarded him.

“It’s a long story,” Harry responds, almost too immediately. If he told them anything, it’s not like any of it was going to be the truth.

Eric tries to stifle a snicker. “What, did you meet in the toilets or some place?”

Louis guffaws at Eric. “Yeah, something like that.” He turns his gaze to Harry with a cheeky smile across his face.

Harry agrees by slightly nodding, but doesn’t say anything. He slightly turns to see a familiar face enter the kitchen. His face lights up. He steps toward her as she spots him.

“Hanna,” Harry beams, seeing his childhood friend that he has known since they were tiny tots. Her eyes immediately meet his, and the widest smile is pulled across her face.

“Harry, it’s so good to see you,” she says, pulling him into a tight embrace. The last time they’ve seen each other was long before Harry moved out of Cheshire. His life had become quite hectic once his parents decided to divorce.

Once they break apart, she notices an unfamiliar boy walk up beside Harry. Harry notices who she’s staring at, and he turns to see Louis beside him, curious about who Hanna is.

“Louis, this is Hanna. She’s a really good friend of mine.” Harry introduced them. It didn’t take long for her to get the gist of who Louis is.

“We’ve known each other since we were six, I believe,” she comments, chuckling. “But it’s nice to meet you, Louis.” She turns back to Harry. “I was totally unaware you were with someone.”

“Yeah,” Harry exhales, “We’re going on two months now.” He feels a small grin tug itself across his face, flicking his eyes down to Louis.

“It was quite random,” Louis comments, implying how they met, but stopping there. He feels Harry nudge him in the side of his ribcage with his elbow, so he knows not to elaborate.

“So, where are you from?” Hanna questions him.

“Doncaster,” Louis responds, but there's hesitance and a bit of sadness laced in his voice. Harry could detect it, but he knew the reason.

She gapes at him for a split second, a memory striking her at the spur of the moment.

“You remind me a lot of someone my dad used to talk about,” she mutters, pausing for a few seconds. “But it’s not impossible.” She frowns, her eyes cast downward to the floor. “He died, that's all I know.” Her voice was tiny and morose.

Louis feels as if there's an imaginary punch to his stomach. A hard punch. But he tries not to express any reaction to her words, knowing it'll intrigue her curiosity why he reacted so strongly. He could only begin to speculate who her dad is now. But he felt awkward asking her, knowing she would wonder why he's so curious.

“Well,” Hanna exhales, deciding to change the subject, “I’m gonna be around.” She squeezes past Harry, walking away.

Louis slowly met Harry’s gaze with sad eyes. He then walks out of the room. Harry chooses to follow him, afraid to leave him alone. What Hanna mentioned definitely killed Louis’ mood.

“Lou,” Harry calls after him, trailing closely behind him. Louis doesn’t turn around to face Harry right away.

Finally turning around, Louis crosses his arms over his chest, the same look from the kitchen remaining on his face.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks him, worried. He didn't expect Louis to be this affected by what Hanna said.

“It struck a nerve,” Louis mutters. He inhales and exhales slowly before continuing, “It just hurt to hear that.” Though he has been long dead, he wasn't ever fond of being reminded, especially considering whoever Hanna’s father is could have been a good mate of his.

It was difficult for Harry to empathize, instead he regarded him with sympathy.

“Hey,” Harry grabs his attention. “Don't let that ruin your night. You have a whole night to party and forget about everything for once.” Harry was destined to get Louis to unclench and let himself go for one night. He wasn't going to let him be a party pooper. “Now let's go get wasted,” Harry joked, encouraging him to follow him back into the kitchen to grab an alcoholic beverage.

Louis only laughs at Harry’s last sentence. He follows him back into the kitchen.

 

Louis and Harry both step into the living room, holding a bottle of beer. They both simultaneously crash on the sofa, Harry lifting his arm up, wrapping it around Louis’ shoulders. It didn’t take long for Harry to get drunk, downing his drink fast and moving onto the next one. Surprisingly, Louis wasn’t as eager as he thought he would be, and hasn’t had much to drink.

Louis takes another swig. Out of his peripheral vision he spotted a familiar face enter the room. The bottle disconnects from his lips, and he motions Lottie over. He grabs Harry’s intentions as she steps towards them.

“Harry, this is Lottie, my other sister. She’s been longing to meet you.”

“How many sisters do you have?” Harry snickers, remembering when he met Félicité not too long ago.

“Four.”

Surprised, Harry’s lips form a firm ‘o’ shape, lightly whistling. Lottie plops down on the cushion beside her brother.

“Have you talked to anyone tonight?” he asks her out of the blue, but the question implied if she’s spoken to any guys, and she definitely understood the implication.

She gives him a look. “Shut up,” she retorts, jokingly. “Theoretically, I am a lot older than them anyway.”

“I’m your brother, it’s a natural instinct,” he responds, lightly chuckling. “I’ll always be a bit protective.”

Luke steps into the room. Ianto and Eric trailed closely behind him. Luke plops down on the cushion beside Harry. Eric sits in the armchair and Ianto on the floor.

“So, how have you dealt with your house being haunted?” Luke randomly asks Harry over the music, which earns a snicker from Ianto and Eric. Harry could tell that Luke and Eric hadn’t had much to drink, unlike Ianto. Both Luke and Eric appeared to be more sober.

Harry shrugs, unsure of how to answer the question. He felt uncomfortable answering it, considering that there were two apparitions sitting directly beside him.

“Shut up, Luke,” Eric shouts. “Why are you so obsessed with that bullshit? It’s all pseudo-science anyway.”

Luke’s eyebrows knit across his forehead at Eric, unsure of what pseudo-science is. Eric usually comes off as a big shot when talking about anything science related because it’s the subject he’s majoring in.

Eric rolls his eyes. “Pseudo-science can’t be proven, which includes ghosts.” He takes a long swig of his beer. He eventually disconnects the bottle from his lips. “Just because a door closes by itself doesn’t mean a house is haunted.” He shakes his head.

Harry briefly glances at Louis to see if he expressed any reaction, but he seemed unbothered.

“But Harry was there when it happened,” Luke objected, turning to Harry for support. “He knew there was something paranormal occurring.”

Harry continues to remain mute, which seemed to befuddle and also hurt Luke’s case. By him staying quiet, it didn’t help Luke look less crazier.

Eric scoffs. “Unless you have irrefutable evidence that ghosts are real, I don’t want to hear anymore of that bullshit.” There’s a firm scowl across his face, pointing at Luke.

Because of the alcohol that skewed his decision making, he didn’t put much thought into his actions. Harry turns and leans his head toward Louis. He briefly notices that his sister had disappeared. He leans his head toward him.

“You’re irrefutable evidence,” he remarks, his lips curving upward, then softly pressing his lips against Louis’. He referred to what Eric had just said. His hand inched toward the hem of Louis’ shirt, grasping it and pulling it upward. Harry had no idea what he was saying, or even doing for that matter; the rational part of his mind almost completely blocked out.

Louis broke the kiss. “Harry, no,” he protested. He immediately grabs Harry’s wrist, stopping him from pulling up his shirt any farther. He knew he stopped him just in time before anyone could see the first scar.

“Oh come on,” Harry slurs, pleading him. Harry is almost wasted, unlike Louis, who definitely had a sense of rationality at the moment.

“I will not let you exploit me for the sake of conforming with your mates. I am not a science project.” He was aware that he had a slim chance of actually reaching through to Harry, considering his intoxicated state.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not that big of a deal. Everyone dies eventually.”

Those words are definitely not what you say to someone who was murdered at a young age. Louis could feel his blood begin to boil as those insensitive words slipped off Harry’s tongue. He shoves Harry away from him.

“You know what? Fuck you,” Louis seethes, leaning forward to stand up. He turns back to Harry one last time. “You don’t fucking know me.” He wags his finger in his face. He spun around, standing up and hastily leaving the room without another word.

Harry’s lips turn into a frown, coming to a realization of Louis’ reasonably enraged temperament. He turns back to Ianto, Eric and Luke, who appeared to be observing the whole scenario.

“What’d you do?” Eric crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Harry.

Harry shrugs, unable to answer the question. He continues to stare at the entrance to the room, agape. He hears Eric asking him another question, but it doesn’t register. He doesn’t pay attention to anyone speaking to him, drowning out all the sounds around him.

 

Hanna stands before the sink, turning on the faucet and washing her hands underneath the cool water with the bar of soap. She briefly glances upward to the mirror, checking to see if any of her makeup or hair needed to be fixed.

Suddenly, a figure appears behind her. Blood covered the side of his face. His lips curved crookedly into a smirk. Her heart stops, her breath hitching in her throat. Before she could move, he covers her mouth with his hand, his arm wrapping around her throat, pulling her backward.

A sudden, bloodcurdling scream emits, all the way from the bathroom. Harry’s heart stops, he bolts upward and in the direction of the voice. Startled, Luke, Eric and Ianto all follow Harry. The scream made Harry’s skin crawl.

“The fuck was that?” Ianto asks brashly. His gaze snaps to Harry, who hasn’t a clue.

Even though Harry was quite drunk, he was still aware that whenever he heard a scream in this house, it never meant anything good. He continues to watch the foyer, and not long until Hanna comes darting away from the direction of the bathroom, fear and horror plastered across her face.

Before Harry could stand up and start towards her, another girl walks up to her, asking her what occurred.

“I-I was in the loo, and this man with a bloody face entered and tried to take advantage of me,” she babbled, her voice strained and weak from trying to hold herself back from bursting into tears. “Tell Harry I decided to leave early,” Hanna says, taking a step backward toward the door. She’s unaware that he is watching their whole conversation.

Harry could only feel himself become enraged, knowing exactly who Hanna spoke of. However, he knew there wasn’t much he could do; he didn’t want to make Hanna feel as if she’s forced to stay if he tried to speak to her about what occurred with Seth. He sighs, feeling defeated.


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for a very emotional chapter. You'll be hit with a lot of feels, and it's a lot to take in. But please feel free to comment, I always like to see your thoughts.

_Song for the chapter: Unsteady by X Ambassadors_

 

The late morning sunlight pours into the living room, casting upon Harry, who lies passed out on the sofa. After the scenario with Louis, he hadn’t done much else, and pretty much stayed committed to the sofa the whole night. The house lay barren of people, as everyone either left after midnight or very early in the morning.

Harry’s eyes slowly peeled open, and he felt like absolute shit. He started to feel the worst hangover arrive quickly. He gags, standing up and racing towards the bathroom. The vomit definitely had no chance of staying down. 

He was aware he should stay on the sofa or his bed, knowing the hangover had no chance of ceasing at the moment. As much as he wanted to search for Louis, he had zero energy to do so. Although the events from last night wear still fuzzy in his mind, he could feel his heart ache, knowing exactly what he said to upset and piss Louis off. It was probably the most angered Harry had seen him, and Louis had every right to be. 

Harry crashed onto his bed, and didn’t plan on standing up for the rest of the day. He planned on lying there until the very next day. His eyelids shut over his eyes. They felt too heavy to lift, so Harry continued to lie there with his eyes closed. He could feel an ounce of solitude, which felt odd from being in an environment with loud music and the constant chatter of people all night. 

The sound of a floorboard creaking nearby prompts his eyes to snap open. His eyes flash to a young girl with brunette hair, standing in his doorway gaping at him. She appeared to be around twelve, wearing denim jeans and a bubblegum pink t-shirt. Once Harry’s eyes begin to focus, she disappears. 

Harry sits upward, scanning his surroundings. He feels an unusual emptiness, but it was a result of the absence of Louis’ presence he became so adjusted to. Harry began to try to figure out how he will reconcile with him. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. 

He recalls Louis’ choleric words, especially the last sentence he spoke to him. _“You don’t fucking know me.”_   Those words struck Harry, projecting outward, repeating in his head. He understood what he should most likely do. However, he felt immobilized at the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to stand up, fearing he would receive the urge to vomit again.

 

* * *

 

Sitting down at the desktop computer in the library, Harry maneuvered the mouse around the screen, trying to search for the news archives the librarian had mentioned when he asked her. Fortunately, everything had been upgraded to the digital age, so that saved him time searching through file cabinets. 

He pulls up a new window, typing several keywords into the search bar: ‘1989’, ‘Oxford’, ‘murder’, and ‘family’. 

It takes several seconds to receive results. Only one result appears, and it was dated January of 1989. Harry clicks onto the link, which takes him to another page with the full article.

Harry’s blood runs cold, his heart dropping to the deepest pit of his stomach. He feels as if all the oxygen in his lungs had vanished.

_The brutal and horrific stabbing took place in the Oxford home, taking the lives of his fiancée, Johannah Poulston, her eldest son, Louis, and her four daughters, Charlotte, Félicité, Daisy and Phoebe Tomlinson. Autopsy results reveal that Johannah was eight weeks pregnant._

_Benjamin O’Malley, charged with murder in the first degree and homicide, has been sentenced to life in prison. Though he tried to plead insanity, the judge would still not grant him any lighter sentence._

He continues to gape at the paragraph, unable to move a muscle. The whole world around him seemed to have frozen. He swallows back a lump in his throat. As much as he didn’t want to imagine the scene, images began to appear in his mind, leaving him shaken. 

Harry proceeds to scroll down, revealing graphic photographs of the scene. There were numbered cards placed around the foyer. Harry’s eyes followed the spatters of blood, leaving a trail on the floor leading to two recognizable bodies: Louis and Félicité. Their shirts were drenched in blood, and there were pools and smears of blood on the floor around them. Harry could feel a painful knot in his stomach as he continued to stare at Louis’ dead body in the photograph. He didn’t realize it would inflict this much emotional pain upon him. 

His eyes flash towards the right column. Louis’ obituary; proof that he was once a living person just like him. Harry reads the paragraph slowly, the knot in his stomach tightening. 

He eventually decides to print the full article out. He has an idea of how he could apologize to Louis and he hopes it’s successful. He doesn’t know how else to apologize to the poor lad without coming off sounding like a piece of shit - which is exactly how he sounded like at the party.

 

* * * * *

 

Stepping through the gate, Louis proceeds up the walkway. He fishes for his keys out of his pocket, fumbling with them to find the correct key. His hands were numb from the frigid air, slowing down his fingers. He couldn’t wait to get inside and warm up in front of the fireplace.

He shoves the key into the keyhole, twisting it. The door unlocks, he throws it open and immediately steps inside.

The house was eerily quiet. Louis shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up on the hook. A chill slithered down his spine, the freezing air still radiating around him. There wasn’t a sound to be heard at all. He was aware that when he had left two hours ago everyone was home, including Ben. No vehicle was missing outside, either.

A floorboard creaked underneath his feet as he took a step towards the kitchen. The atmosphere was unearthly, sending goosebumps to rise on his skin.

As he slowly stepped towards the kitchen, he hears a floorboard creak behind him. He instantly spins around. Ben stood five feet away. His left hand is behind his back, obviously holding something. His face was blank, but it was obvious underneath there was something much more than what he’s presenting.

“Do you happen to know where everyone is?” Louis asks him, curious about the whereabouts of his family.

Nodding, Ben takes a step closer. “Of course I do.” He stops as soon as he and Louis were about three inches apart. Louis continues to eye him carefully, starting to feel uneasy, as if something wasn’t right. “I can take you to them.”

Ben pulls his arm from out behind his back. Louis briefly receives a glimpse of what he was holding: A sharp steak knife. Before he could do anything, the knife is driven into the lower left side of his abdomen, underneath his ribcage.

Gasping, Louis stumbles backward. He tries to keep his balance. He glances upward at Ben as he hunches over a little and covers the bloody wound with his hand, giving him a horrified, yet saddened face.

“Why?” He chokes on his own blood, tasting it in his mouth. He feels his limbs go weak, unable to support him any longer. His knees give out, crashing onto the hardwood floor.

There’s a light chuckle emitting from Ben as he steps over Louis and heads towards the kitchen.

With his final ounce of strength he had left, Louis hoists his arms up on the floor, army crawling towards Ben’s feet, wrapping his hand around his ankle to stop him. Ben stops in his tracks.

“Stay...away...from...my...mum,” he manages hoarsely.

“Too late,” Ben retorts, sneering. He spins around, crouching down towards Louis who glared at him. “You won’t stay down, won’t you? You sure are a fighter.” He sighs and shakes his head, kicking him onto his back. He deliberately drives the knife into Louis’ chest, causing him to cry out weakly, agonizing pain written all over his face.

Louis can only lie there on the cold floor, heaving his last breaths. He could feel his body shutting down and turning cold. He felt so powerless, knowing that death was imminent.

His eyes watch as Ben’s shoes step back into the foyer, but carrying a familiar body that Louis immediately recognized. Ben lies Félicité down beside him. The life had already been gone from her. Louis gasps for air and chokes again, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his lifeless sibling.

“Now you won’t die alone,” Ben remarks, then walking away. As if that’s the nicest thing he can do for him.

For his final moments, Louis slowly reaches his hand out, grabbing her bloodless one and holding his hand tightly in hers. Rapidly, he loses the sense of his surroundings, the world vanishing around him.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry steps through the doorway, shutting the door behind him. He sets the folder on the table, shrugs off his jacket, and hung it up on the hook. He picks up the manila folder, his eyes flick downward toward the floor at every step he took. The photo swiftly coming to his mind. This was exactly where Louis took his final breaths, which caused Harry to shiver. He held the folder containing the article up, heaving a shaky sigh.

“Louis?” Harry utters, trying to project his voice. “I want to apologize. I am so, so sorry for what I said. It was insensitive and abhorrent.” Harry takes another step, his eyes stay attached to the floorboards underneath him. “But I can understand if you don’t want to see me ever again.”

There’s a floorboard that creaks behind him. Harry swiftly spins around, stumbling backward as Louis stands two inches away from him. His hands were crossed over his chest, a firm scowl across his face.

“Fucking-” Harry sputters, gasping from being scared half to death. “You scared me!”

“Ghost,” Louis spoke petulantly, as if Harry needed to be reminded. “So, it took you this long to find your balls and finally apologize,” he scoffs. It has been two days since the incident. He notices a manila folder in Harry’s hands, distracting him and intriguing his curiosity.

“What’s this?” He lifts his hands up, his fingers curling around the edges of the folder to take it from Harry.

Before Harry could stop him, the folder slides out of his hands and is now in Louis’. Before he could get a word out, Louis opens the folder. His face drops.

Harry sighs, a grim look forming on his face. “I wanted to wait to show you,” he says, his voice tiny.

“I-” Louis stumbles on his words, trying to form a coherent sentence. But he’s too taken aback to say anything. His heart drops as he continues to read the paragraph. The oxygen is missing from his lungs. “Where did you find this?”

“At the library.” Harry’s eyes drop down to the floor, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “I decided to do some research about what happened...to you.” His eyes slowly lift upward, locking onto the folder that Louis’ eyes were still attached to. 

Not knowing how to react, Louis continued to stand there, gaping at the stapled papers in his hands. His stomach twisted, he was unable to read any more. He also couldn’t believe he was just finding out that his mum was pregnant at the time, causing the knot in his stomach to worsen. She was obviously waiting to tell them until she was farther along.

“This is the room where you died,” Harry uttered. “I didn’t look at the other photographs, but I know there’s more I scrolled past.”

The folder falls from Louis’ hands. Harry’s gaze snaps downward, crouching down to the floor to pick it up. As he grabs the folder off the floor, he notices that Louis has vanished. Harry stands back up, the spot where Louis was standing is absent. Harry spins around, searching for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, he proceeds up the staircase to his bedroom. Harry doesn’t know what else to do for the rest of the day, his mood shot. He isn’t motivated to do anything. He expected the encounter with Louis to be better, but it took an unexpected turn as soon as the folder was taken from his hands. He expected to reconcile with him and everything would be fine.

Harry sets the folder on his nightstand and crashes onto his bed. He feels reluctant to stand up right now. However, he doesn’t see a point. There’s nothing else he wants to do. Without Louis by his side, he feels deserted. The two were never bored or spiritless.

Harry laughs, remembering when he introduced him to Netflix. _“What is Netflix?”_ he recalls Louis asking him, clueless. He enjoyed introducing Louis to all the new technology.

His head suddenly turns to his nightstand to see the folder missing. His eyebrows knit across his forehead, puzzled. There was only one suspect who could have taken it, but he questioned why Louis would want anything to do with it, considering how paralyzed and shaken he appeared to be when his eyes laid on the article and he skimmed through it.

 

*

 

Harry lies in bed, unsuccessful at falling asleep. Knowing he still may not be on good terms with Louis had him bothered, causing his mind to constantly run with thoughts. It’s not like they actually had the chance to talk, instead the situation turned to the folder and the article.

As much as Harry tried to cocoon himself in his bedsheets, he still remained cold for some reason. It wasn’t possible for him to warm up. He wondered if it was a placebo effect - being so adjusted to the touch of Louis’ skin that he now always anticipated it and it caused his body to react to being cold, but without him now.

There was a crash heard from downstairs. Harry could only wonder if any of the spirits were responsible, so he wasn’t so sure he should be concerned or not. He was reluctant to crawl out of his sheets and leave his room to find a ghost fooling around. It wasn’t worth it.

There’s another sound, which prompts him to bolt upright. Harry’s knows he shouldn’t panic so quickly, aware of the strong possibility.

His curiosity got the best of him. He pushes back the sheets, throwing his legs over onto the hardwood floor. Goosebumps rise on his skin and he begins to tremble, as a result of the coldness circulating around him.

He proceeds out the door and down the hallway, his slow footsteps remaining the same pace. He hears a chatter of unfamiliar voices, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. But he still proceeded down the staircase, his feet nimble and silent, ceasing to make any noise.

Harry’s feet come to an immediate halt as soon as he comes into view of the foyer and living room. In the living room were three people: One woman and two men. They were dressed in all black attire, each with a handgun at their waist. The living room window was wide open. Harry immediately recalls that he forgot to set the alarm system for the night, causing him to mentally kick himself in the shin.

His heart seemed to have stopped beating. He froze on the step, unable to move a muscle. He left his phone in his bedroom, and he was terrified to move in case he would make any sound.

The woman’s head snaps in Harry’s direction, scowling. “Looks like this house isn’t empty after all.” She scoffs, shaking her head and gestures in his direction.

The three start towards him. Harry remained frozen, unable to manage his limbs to move. He starts to feel like a fool for not running back up the staircase to grab his phone and call the police.

The first man grabbed his left shoulder, the second grabbed his right. They carried him down the staircase and into the kitchen, placing him in a chair. The woman grabs a rope from behind her back, tying his hands together behind the chair, and then his ankles.

“What the fuck is going on?” Harry blurts, finally finding the balls to say something.

“Shut the fuck up,” the man snaps with glaring eyes. “You will not speak unless you are spoken to.”

“So it’s just you, eh?” The other man assumes. “Your mummy and your big sister left temporarily?”

His patronizing words only infuriated Harry. However, he wasn’t going to bite. He was determined to remain calm. He was aware if he expressed any rage or panic, it would give them satisfaction. He wondered how the man knew their situation so well.

Harry nods, but chooses not to say anything. He keeps his eyes on the woman as she draws her gun out of her waist holder. She steps behind him, wrapping her other arm around his neck and holding the gun up to his temple.

“You will answer a few simple questions,” the man says, his icy, blue eyes locking onto Harry’s. “Though, it’s not like we don’t plan on killing you eventually.”

It was impossible for Harry to think of anything else at the moment, being so terrified. However, he kept holding onto a sliver of hope that someone would come to his rescue.

“Nobody is coming to save you,” sneers the second man. “You might as well comply. We might even be generous and assure that you die right away instead of letting you bleed out and die slowly.”

"Just get on with it!” The woman shouts, her shrill voice ringing through Harry’s ear forcing him to flinch.

“When do your mum and your sister plan on returning?” he asks, a devious look on his face.

“I-I don’t know,” Harry stammers, his voice trembling. That was the truth, however he could tell they weren’t satisfied with his answer.

“You are aware that all liars are damned, right?”

The man spoke as if he is some devout Christian, which would deem him a hypocrite considering he plans on killing someone for the fun of it. Harry continued to stare at him, not uttering a word.

The most unexpected thing happens. There’s a sound of metal cracking against a skull, and the man falls to the ground, comatose - but most likely dead. Harry continues to gape at the spot where he once stood, stunned. His gun disappears from his waist.

“Now, I’m going to give you two a chance to drop your guns and leave, or else you can join your mate.”

A shiver travels down Harry’s spine, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Louis. He appears in the spot the man was once standing, aiming the gun at the woman, then the other man.

“What the fuck, man?” The man gasps, taken aback to see someone materialize in plain sight.

The woman stands back upward, however she doesn’t surrender. She aims the gun at him, not hesitating to pull the trigger. Louis disappears before the bullet leaves the barrel.

“You missed.” He appears behind her, whispering into her ear.

She emits a shriek, spinning around on the heels of her feet.

“I’m not going to ask you again. I really don’t want to kill anyone else.”

“Fuck this.” The man bolts out of the room, leaving the woman behind. However, she still doesn’t budge. There isn’t one spark of fear in her eyes, she remained quite solid. She holds up the gun again, but before she could pull back the trigger, she is shot in the arm, causing her to drop the gun as her arm becomes paralyzed. 

Harry’s jaw has fallen, unable to believe this different side of Louis he’s never seen before. He can only crane his neck so far to see the action of what’s going on behind him. He doesn’t know whether or not to be terrified of Louis at the moment. He hears another gunshot, causing him to flinch again. There’s a sound as the woman collapses to the ground, obviously this bullet killed her. 

“What the actual fuck…” Harry mutters while exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You just killed two people.”

“Well, I’m dead, so my fate is already sealed,” Louis huffs, brushing it off as nothing. He begins to cut the rope tied around Harry’s wrists with a knife. “It was either you or them, and they did have plans to kill you.” 

Harry feels the rope loosening from around his wrists, and eventually his hands are free. Louis appears around his shoulder, cutting the rope at his ankles with a knife. Harry gapes at him incredulously.

“Have you ever used a gun before?” Harry asks him as he stands up as soon as his ankles are free. He still gazes at him with amazement. 

Louis shakes his head. “Nope.” 

Harry turns his attention down to the body of the man, sighing. “We’re gonna have to figure out how to get rid of the bodies,” he says, turning to look at the body of the woman. There was blood on the floor by her arm and her chest. “And clean up the blood.” 

“Well,” Louis exhales, “We could bury them in the backyard, or if you have another idea I’m open to.” 

“But they have families,” Harry speaks up. “Somebody will be looking for them, obviously.” 

“If you call the police you would be arrested.”

Harry sighs, reluctantly agreeing. He hated to admit that Louis was right. He starts for the back door. 

“I’ll get the shovel.”

 

Harry and Louis both hoist the body of the woman up, dropping her in the four foot hole that Harry tried to dig hastily. They chuck the guns in as well to get rid of evidence. Harry only dug four feet because there wasn’t enough time to dig six.

Though it was still pitch dark, the sun was bound to be up in three hours, and after this he had another hour and a half or longer to fill in the hole. They both definitely didn’t want to be seen by anyone.

“I’ll help you fill it in,” Louis offers, grabbing a second shovel that Harry didn’t know existed until now. Harry wished he could have helped him when he was breaking his back earlier.

 

*

 

Harry steps into his bedroom. He decides to change out of his dirt covered clothes. He doesn’t realize that Louis is behind him as he throws his shirt in the laundry bin and begins to take off his pajama pants.

“Are we on good terms now?” Harry presumes, stepping towards his chest of drawers to grab out different sleepwear.

“I suppose.” Louis shrugs. “I did just save your life.” He sits down on Harry’s bed, but didn’t watch him continue to dress. 

Harry pulls his shirt down over his head. He sits down beside Louis, but leaving several inches between them. He felt as if there was an awkward ambiance between them. 

Without putting much thought into it, Harry leans in and cocks his head, pressing his lips against Louis’. Instead of rejecting him, Louis deepens the kiss. The feelings he harbored for Harry returned, amplifying. 

Harry eventually breaks away, feeling awkward again. “Too soon?” He shies away a little.

“No.” Louis shakes his head, a small smile curving upward. His smile falls, turning serious. “I was better off not knowing how I died. Ever since I read that article from the newspaper it seems to hurt a lot more. I wish I hadn’t seen those photographs.”

Harry responds with a look of sympathy. He feels the melancholy radiating from Louis, now affecting him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry manages. “You didn’t do anything to deserve any of this.”

“I think it’s best we change the subject,” Louis pleads. “I’d rather not keep talking about it.”

Harry nods, respecting his wishes. He buries his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” he yawns, his eyes struggling to stay open. He falls backward onto his duvet. Louis turns back to him, lightly chuckling.

“I’m going to let you get your sleep. You need it.”

“No,” Harry protests, reaching out to grab his arm. “Stay with me,” he begs, pouting. 

“Oh, alright.” Louis gives in easily, lying down beside Harry. He watches as Harry’s eyelids shut over his eyes, not opening again. Harry’s grip on his arm loosens as he quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Louis chooses not to leave just yet, wanting to lie there for several more minutes. Though it had been two days, he didn’t realize how much he missed Harry until now; the warm, electric touch of his skin and his scent.

 

*

 

His eyes fluttering open, Harry immediately feels a cramp in his neck from lying in an awkward position. He notices the absence of Louis’ presence, remembering him lying just several inches away. He picks his head up, noticing familiar blonde hair standing in his doorway, peeking into his room. Harry was surprised to find his mum and sister had return already.

“Hey,” he says, situating himself upward, eventually standing up. “What brings you back already?” 

“Mum got a call about the police being called because gunshots were heard from inside the house.”

 _Shit._ Harry curses in his head. He knew it was likely that there were cops downstairs, waiting to ask him what happened. It’s not common for someone to possess a gun, and Harry doesn’t own one, so they’re obviously going to speculate about the loud gunshots. He had to start conjuring a believable story now. Though he never touched the weapon, he still became anxious because Louis being a spectral being, he wouldn’t be considered.

Harry followed Gemma out of his room and slowly made his way downstairs. He could feel his stomach twist with anxiety. He took his time down the staircase, dreading each step.

Anne’s face washed with relief as soon as she could see her son appear on the staircase. She was relieved to know that he was perfectly fine - at least he appeared to be.

Another woman stood in the living room. Harry immediately recognized her as Tanya. He could only question what business she had doing here - unless she was the person who called the police; which was highly likely.

“Oh goodness, I’m so glad to see that you’re safe,” Tanya announces, before Anne could get the first word out.

“We were unable to find any evidence of a firearm,” the one police officer says, with speculation. “The whole property was searched, with the exception of your bedroom.”

“I promise there’s no firearms in my room.” Harry puts his arms up in surrender. The anxiousness didn’t decrease, and remained. He could only wonder what the police were going to do next.

The one officer turns to Tanya. “M’am, it seems like you were mistaken, and whatever you heard were not gunshots. We thoroughly searched the property and could not find any firearm.” 

“But officer, I swear I heard those gunshots. I know what a gun sounds like,” Tanya objects, almost looking offended. She briefly glances at Harry, giving him the stink eye.

“Well, that’s relieving,” Anne speaks up, feeling as if a massive weight was lifted off her chest. She turns to the officers. “Thank you. I’m glad to know that my son is safe.”

Knowing she should leave before she gets testy with the officers, Tanya steps out of the room. She sends Harry a glare as she walks past him. He knew that she definitely is aware of what happened, but she wasn’t going to spill the whole story for some reason.

Harry steps back into his room. He takes a massive breath of relief. It didn’t go as bad as he predicted it to. He meanders towards his bed, sitting down and pulling his phone out to see a few messages from his mates, Luke and Eric.

Out of his peripheral vision as he’s responding to the messages, he notices a head appear by his right arm. Harry’s heart almost ceased to beat seeing Louis appear beside him, lying on his tummy glancing at his phone in his hand then up at him.

“Why do you keep startling me?” Harry exhales, trying to regain his breathing sequence. “You know I hate it when you do that.” He shakes his head, setting his phone down on the duvet.

Louis only laughs. “Ghost,” he reminds him again, causing Harry to roll his eyes. “You’re no fun,” he scoffs, pouting.

“I hate you,” Harry says, but in a joking manner.

“No, you don’t,” Louis retorts, smirking. He situates himself to sit beside Harry.

Harry softly chuckles, shaking his head again.

“Why are you so bothered by it, anyway?” Louis questions, intrusive. “It’s just me.”

Harry shrugs, unable find an answer to the question off the top of his head.

“It has nothing to do with me being a ghost, right?” Louis speculates, gazing at Harry with concerned eyes. “I thought you were adjusted by now.”

“No.” Harry shakes his head. “I don’t see the big deal. It doesn’t matter who the person is - dead or alive, I don’t like being startled like that.”

“Harry.” Louis gives him that look, knowing he’s evading the truth. “You don’t think I notice, but I do. When you met my mum a few days ago I noticed you seemed a bit off. But I totally understand.”

“If I was still so bothered by it do you think I’d be balls deep in you?” Harry snickers. “I’ve been fucking a spirit of a dead person, yet I’ve become so desensitized to it.” Harry finally realizes how asinine it sounds when it rolls off his tongue, saying it aloud.

As Harry waits for him to, Louis doesn’t express any reaction.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Louis admits. It’s all he says, an awkwardness then settling between them.

Harry realized he likely came off a bit too bold and indiscreet, and didn’t need to go into that much detail. Another question comes to his mind, prompting him to change the subject.

“What’d you do with the folder?”

“Yeah, I took it from you without your permission,” Louis admits, appearing a bit sheepish. “I wanted to see the other photographs and read more of the article, but it seems like I received more than what I bargained for.” He grew uncomfortable, his facial expression falling grim and dismal. “I gave it to my sisters, they wanted to read it. You don't need it back, do you?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. It's just a printed out copy.”

“It stings because the man who killed me was going to be my step-dad,” Louis spoke, a dread in his voice. “He was a good man, too. But my only solace as to why he did it was because of the house…” his voice faltered, his gaze dropping down to the floorboards. “I noticed he started to act differently once he moved in. He was going mad...but nobody cared enough to notice.” He covers his head in his hands, ashamed. “If only I would have helped him…” His arms drop down to his lap, his face pale and sad.

Harry lifts his arm up, wrapping it around Louis’ shoulders, pulling him close to his body to provide comfort.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry objected, speaking softly. “But you shouldn’t dwell on the past.”

Louis’ head snaps up at Harry. “Y’know, I could have had a family now and another sibling - possibly a brother, but he was never born.” His head drops down again, inhaling and exhaling a trembling breath.

Harry didn’t know what to say, other than the typical “I’m sorry”. He could feel his gut wrench, his heart breaking from hearing Louis speak, sounding so broken and crushed.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Harry spoke, hugging Louis close to him.

Louis glances upward at Harry with his blue translucent, but bleak eyes. He had the impulse to object, but couldn’t bring himself to project the energy.

“Do you think you would have been genuinely happy if you married the opposite sex?” Harry asks, out of the blue.

Louis shrugs, his eyes dropping downward again. “I don’t know. Though, I guess not, because I’ve always been attracted to guys, but I was quite in denial about it and disgusted with it. For the sake of how my family would react if they found out I were gay, I forced myself to date women.”

“What do they think of you and I?” Harry was stunned to find his internalized homophobia was so deeply rooted at a time. He was also taken aback because Louis was being so open about himself, and didn’t seem to be holding anything back He knew that Louis trusted him greatly, because he wouldn’t be opening up his personal self.

“They’re actually not bothered by it.” Louis finally lifts his head up again. “They’re happy I found someone that makes me happy.” A small smile curves upward across his face.

“Well I’m glad that you finally accepted yourself,” Harry comments. “That is what’s important.”

Louis leans his head inwards towards Harry, pursing his lips, then delicately placing them on Harry’s jawbone, trailing downward towards his neckline.

Harry doesn’t think of anything else at the moment, only the soft touch of Louis’ skin against his, and his lips maneuvering around his neck. He wasn’t so sure where this was leading to. Louis only quickened his speed, his right arm snaking upward, wrapping around Harry’s shoulders to keep him close.

“You know, when I was with a girl, I didn't get the rush I get when I'm with you,” he whispered, occasionally sucking on Harry's neck as he continued to leave sporadic kisses. Absentmindedly, his hand crawls towards Harry's groin. “The strong emotions, the lust,” he elaborated, his voice a little raspy. His hand grabs Harry’s length through the fabric, and it started to stiffen.

Harry bites his lip, knowing where this is going, but he doesn't stop him.

There were footsteps approaching from down the hallway. As soon as they stepped toward the door, Louis vanishes. Harry was left taken off-guard as soon as the lad suddenly disappears from his sight. His head craned to see Gemma slightly push his door open, standing in the doorway, seeming as if she wanted to ask him a question.

“Hey,” she says, “mum would like to speak with you.”

Obeying his mum’s demands, Harry stands up, starting for his door. Gemma begins to turn to proceed back downstairs. She notices Louis’ absence, and that Harry hasn’t mentioned anything about him, even on text. Harry is almost never seen without him, and it struck her odd.

“Where’s Louis?” she asks him. “You two are always together.”

Harry shrugs, clueless. “He’s always around. But I can’t say exactly where though. It’s none of my knowledge.” He continues down the staircase behind his sister.

“You didn’t have a fight, did you?”

“No, no,” Harry immediately responds, almost too quickly. Although what occurred between them wasn’t exactly a fight, Harry still chose not to mention it.

He steps off the bottom step onto the floor, turning to see his mum standing in the living room with her arms crossed, waiting for him.

“What happened while we were gone?” Anne asks Harry as soon as he steps into the living room. She takes several steps toward him. It was evident she was still skeptical over the whole “gunshot sounds” ordeal. But she had every right to be worried.

“Nothing really detrimental,” Harry responds, evading a bit. “Though, I did have a party. But nothing crazy happened. It went smoothly, I promise.”

Gemma gapes at Harry for a few seconds, surprised that he would host a party here; considering he was reluctant to host anyone over.

“Anything else?” Anne implies if anything else had occurred beside the party. Though it seemed like nothing did, considering how composed Harry appeared to be.

“No, nothing else happened.” Harry tried to appear confident, so she wouldn’t suspect anything. 

“Okay,” Anne huffs. “I’m glad you’re fine, and nothing serious occurred.” She feels as if a massive weight is lifted off her chest. She remembers that she should mention that she met someone several days ago, and that she plans on inviting him over for dinner soon.

As Harry turns to exit the room, Anne stops him in his tracks.

“Harry.”

He whips back around to face his mum, who seemed eager to tell him something.

“I met someone,” she announces. “When I was in Cheshire, a few days ago. He’s a very nice man.”

Harry’s face lights up, happy that his mum had found someone. “That’s great. I can’t wait to meet him.” He feels as if everything is happening so fast. It felt as if just yesterday they had left Cheshire and moved in. And now his mum had someone completely new. He had no idea what to expect.

 

The three sat at the table in the kitchen, for what felt like the first time in forever since they ate as a family together. Gemma poked at her asparagus, the uncomfortable sentiment already setting in again. She couldn’t help but be floored by how Harry acted as if nothing bothered him.

Anne sets her fork down on the plate, reminding herself to mention an entity.

“The library is holding an event about the top most haunted houses in England, and our house is on the list. It will be featured in the event.” She was trying to imply the idea of attending. She was still very curious about the history of the house, and she believed it would ease her nerves if she to learn more about its ominous past.

“Oh, really?” Gemma’s eyebrows pinched. She liked the idea of attending, as she too were just as curious.

Anne nods. “I was going to ask if you and Harry would like to attend with me.” Her eyes flicked from Gemma to Harry as she finished the sentence.

Harry remained expressionless. He didn’t express an acknowledgment to his mum’s offer. But he silently considered it. He knew it couldn’t hurt. There was more than to what meets the eye about the house.

“I’ll think about it,” he mutters, stabbing a piece of his meatloaf with his fork.

“You should go, Harry,” Gemma insists. “Maybe you would learn more about Louis.”

Harry shuddered. He understood her implication that she meant how he died. But he had already learned enough about his backstory, from the newspaper article. However, Gemma didn’t know that.

Gemma set down her fork, remembering that she hasn’t seen Louis yet today. She always noticed how he and Harry always seemed to be seen together. But today was different. She hadn’t seen his face once.

“Where is Louis by the way?”

Harry shrugs, unsure. “Don’t know. But he’s always around.” He seemed apathetic about the question. He noticed that there appeared to be a little distance between them; but he knew it was nothing he did.

 

* * *

 

Anne, Harry and Gemma were sat in metal folding chairs, before a white board with a projector hanging from the ceiling, projecting a presentation on the board. Harry seemed reluctant to attend with them, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. He started to become interested instead.

A middle aged man wearing a suit jacket and a bowtie stands to the side of the whiteboard. His dark, ebony hair was gelled back, and he had a scruffy beard. He held a remote controller which controlled the projector.

“I will conclude with the infamous ‘Murder House’,” he announces, pressing his finger down on the button. The slide transitioned, revealing a photograph of the house and several paragraphs on the side. He seemed eager to talk about it. “This is my favorite haunted house to talk about because of it’s rich and enthralling history,” he eagerly says. He heaves a deep breath, exhaling slowly, preparing himself. “In 1910, the house was built by Jonathon Livingston for his wife, Esther. Jonathan was a lawyer, while his wife stayed home and cared for their five children.”

Harry gazed at the old photograph of the house. He assumed it had to have been taken around the 1930’s, considering the quality of the photo. Judging by how the man carried out his words, he knew it was going to become dark real fast.

“Unfortunately, neither of them had a share of an easy life. Two of Esther’s babies were stillborn, and one died from polio around eight. This caused Jonathan to drink. He became an alcoholic.” He sighs, an unsettling ambiance setting in the room. “Both of the parents took their own lives, along with their four other children. Investigators were unable to conclude why, and it still remains a mystery today.”

Gemma shuddered, goosebumps rising all over her skin. The story was unimaginable to her. She too couldn’t figure out a reason why you would take not only your life but the lives of your children - if they were innocent people.

“The death toll in this house is unimaginable.” The man continues. “In 1932, a woman named Dorothy Hancock died at childbirth. She was only twenty-seven years.”

Harry didn’t react too well as he continued to speak. He understood who was coming soon to be mentioned.

 

* 

  
There were sounds of the front door unlocking and opening. Harry walked down the staircase to find Robin step through the doorway, as Anne held the door open. As Harry approached the final steps, Anne turns and glances up at him. She ushers him down to meet Robin. She closes the door behind him. 

Robin turns to see Harry step off the bottom step and onto the floor. Harry approaches the both of them as they stood together.

“I suppose you’re Harry?” He holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Harry shakes hand, a small smile forming across his face.

Anne led them Robin into the kitchen. Harry could smell the scent of the food cooking from the stove. Whatever is mum was cooking, he knew had to be good. The scent started to make him hungry.

Before he could reach the kitchen, his left arm was grabbed, pulling him away in the direction of the living room. Harry may have been startled, but he didn’t react.

“Why do you always have to appear at the wrong times?” Harry stands a few inches away from Louis, who appeared to be amused. He and Louis haven’t had much conversation in the past forty-eight hours, but he wasn’t surprised he would choose now. It’s not the first time.

Louis shrugs. “Why not?” It was evident he didn’t notice they had a visitor in the house, which caused him to suspect Harry’s annoyed tone. Before allowing Harry to speak, be does again. “We should go upstairs.” He smirks and folds his hand into Harry’s, trying to motion him towards the staircase.

Harry shakes his head, immediately tearing his hand out of Louis’. “I can’t. But later, I promise.” As much as he desired it, he had to pull himself backward and away.

A frown crosses Louis’ face. But before he could say or do anything, there are footsteps heard coming from the kitchen, and he vanishes. Harry spins around to see his mum appear around the corner, obviously questioning where he disappeared off to so quickly.

“There you are,” she huffs. “I wondered where you disappeared to.” She ushers him to follow her into the kitchen.

A delicate brush of cold air encompassed Harry, causing him to freeze in his footsteps. He gazes around the perimeter where he stood, but there was nobody to be found. He could feel the familiar spectral touch of Louis’ skin on his right arm, though he didn’t shudder, but he expected to. It was a typical reaction.

“My daughter will be home soon,” Anne tells Robin. “She’s been out all day.” She flicks her gaze to Harry, who stood still in front of the threshold, motioning him over.

“So, are you studying anything in Uni, Harry?” Robin asks him, trying to start a conversation.

Harry shakes his head. “No. I haven’t had the time to apply because we moved over the summer. Though I’m hoping I can apply this Spring.” He pauses, recalling that Gemma is currently majoring in English and Literature.

The sound of the door unlocking caught their attention. Anne eagerly spun in the direction of the hallway. This meant that Gemma was home.

 

* * *

 

Dorothy stepped into Anne’s bedroom, her gaze turning down to the picture frames of Harry and Gemma when they were tiny tots. She could feel tears well in her eyes, her throat becoming raw.

“My baby,” she chokes out, remembering the slightest memory of a child she had given birth to before she died. She could only wonder where her “newborn” is. But wherever she searched in the house there was no luck. “Where’s my baby?” She spins around once, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she slightly turns to see a man in a white t-shirt with strictly cut, sandy hair standing just a few inches away from her. Before she could ask who he is, he cuts her off. 

“You want a baby?” he asks her, stepping towards her. Seth wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

Dorothy only nods, choking on her words as she struggled to form a coherent sentence. With a tear stained face and glassy eyes, she turns her head up to him.

“I’ll get you a baby, okay?" he whispers into her ear, rubbing circles on her back to comfort her. He turns his head away, a smirk forming across his face.


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I decided to upload this on Christmas. This was difficult for me to finish, and it may be hard to read, considering certain events that have occurred in the past several weeks...But this is an extra long chapter and I hope you all enjoy it. This took blood, sweat, and tears.

Another month passes by. The holiday spirit was in the air; the first snowfall happened just a few days ago. Harry strolled through the gate, fumbling for the keys in the pocket of his jacket with his numb fingers. He pulls them out as soon as he reaches the door. He pushes the key into the keyhole, twisting it, the door unlocking. He throws the door open, trying to quickly step inside and escape the frigid air.

He sets the bag of groceries down on the kitchen island. He grabs a carton of eggs out of the bag, then turning around to open the fridge. Feeling the cold air encircle him from the fridge, he tries hurriedly put the groceries away. He’s had enough of the freezing temperature for the day.

Still feeling cold, he decides to turn up the heat. Harry doesn’t take off his jacket, deciding to leave it on until he can fully warm up. He reaches the top step of the staircase, proceeding to his bedroom. Hearing footsteps behind him, he whips around in his place, but to his dismay, there is nobody. There were many possibilities he could conjure, but he didn’t, and turned around, continuing down the hallway.

Harry was aware that he was the only one home at the moment, which provided the reason why the house is so eerily silent. But it was something he became adjusted to.

He stepped into his bedroom. The first action he does is check to see if the Christmas presents he bought his mum and Gemma were still in the place he hid them. He was afraid that someone could potentially touch and misplace them when he’s absent.

Feeling his body temperature finally return back to normal and provide heat, he takes his jacket off, hanging it up on the hook on his bathroom door.

Because work had tired him out, he wanted to climb underneath his bed sheets, grab his laptop and find something to watch on Netflix. He didn’t use Netflix that often, but when he did it was usually when he didn’t feel like doing anything else.

It felt so strange to Harry, because he actually felt normal for once. He began to do things again that an average young adult does - including seeing his mates more often. He also felt as if his mental health was bouncing back to normal. His anxiety used to be through the rooftops for the past few months.

There’s a sound as one of his books hit the hardwood floor. Harry’s eyes snap upward and in the direction of his bookshelf to see a book laying on the ground. Another book follows, falling and crashing to the floor. He rolls his eyes. Though he was becoming annoyed, he didn’t express it. He could only point to one suspect. Another book slides off the shelf and falls.

Harry picks his laptop up and off his lap, setting it down on his duvet. He swings his legs over and onto the floor to stand up and set his books back on the shelf.

“You don’t have to hide,” Harry firmly asserts, seeming as if he were speaking to himself because as far as he could see, he was the only one in the room. He crouches down to the floor, picking up the books.

“I like to get creative when trying to grab your attention.”

Setting the last book on the shelf, Harry spins around on the balls of his feet, hearing Louis’ voice from behind him. He is sat at the edge of Harry’s bed, his phone in his hand. His gaze turns down to Harry’s phone in his hand. Harry remembers that he didn’t lock his phone, and it was still on the home screen.

It’s not like he had too much to worry about, but he still wasn’t too keen on Louis using his phone without his permission or knowledge. He was mostly afraid that he would screw his phone up, being unfamiliar with the modern device. Harry hadn’t shown him that much about iPhones, and what you can and can’t do with them, and how it’s necessary to be careful with them.

Disinterested, Louis hands his phone back to him as soon as he sits down beside him. “I don’t really care about it as much as I thought I did,” he says, shrugging. “There’s nothing really striking about a smartphone.”

Harry lightly chuckles. “You remind me of my granddad. He’s not too fond of smartphones, either.”

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t need a reminder of my age.” He forms a scowl, then a face of disgust.

“Speaking of which…” Harry trails off, hinting at his birthday approaching.

Louis shakes his head, his gaze dropping to his lap. “You better not get me anything. I swear, Harry.” His stern eyes flick up to meet Harry’s gaze.

“Well, those clothes on your body are because of me.” A cheeky smile forms on Harry’s face. “But I would feel shitty if I didn’t get you anything for your birthday.”

“Of course you would,” Louis murmurs, averting his gaze away. “I know you too well.”

Harry remembers that they haven't put the tree up yet. He thinks of an idea.

“The tree isn't up yet,” Harry mutters. He turns his gaze up to Louis. “Would you, along with your sisters would like to help put it up? You know, decorate it and all?”

Louis’ face lit up at Harry’s offer. “Of course. I'm sure they would love to.”

“Everyone deserves to feel the Christmas spirit,” Harry adds, a smile tugging itself across his face. Feeling hungry, he decides to head down into the kitchen. “I’m hungry,” he announces, beginning to stand up.

“I’ll go with you,” Louis insists, following him towards the door.

Harry sets the loaf of bread and cheese down on the island. He grabs a pan out of one of the cabinets, setting it down on the stove, then turning around back to the island. He was preparing a cheese toastie.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist as Harry sets the sandwich on the pan and starts up the stove.

“What’cha cooking?” he asks, standing on his toes trying to peer over Harry’s broad shoulders.

“A cheese toastie,” Harry responds, amplifying the temperature. He rests his hand back on the handle. He feels Louis’ soft lips brush up against the back of his neck, leaving small kisses. “Now’s definitely not the time,” Harry softly chuckles. “Unless you would like me to burn the house down.” He could feel Louis’ chest vibrate against his back as he laughed.

“It’s always the right time.” 

Harry shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. He flips the sandwich, not realizing it was too early, but he blamed Louis for distracting him.

“Why do you always vanish when either my mum or my sister appear?” The thought suddenly strikes him, piquing his curiosity. It was a new action to Harry, and he wanted to know why Louis started doing it.

Unwrapping his arms from around Harry’s waist, Louis appears on the side. He shrugs.

“I assumed they didn’t like me - by how they acted whenever I was around.”

Harry scoffs and shakes his head. “They like you. I promise.” He flicks his gaze up to meet Louis’, who gives him a look, not believing him. “Y’know, they have been questioning your whereabouts, wondering where you are. If they didn’t like you why would they keep asking me?”

Louis considered Harry’s response, that he did have a point. He watches as Harry fully turns to him with the biggest smirk.

“I think it would be impossible to hate you.”

Softly chuckling, Louis diverts his gaze away. He feels his cheeks flush. He begins to smell the scent of food burning, causing his eyes to snap back to the pan where the sandwich lay, smoke rising from the one side flat on the pan.

“Well, you may actually be trying to burn the house down.”

Harry’s eyes to flick back to the pan upon hearing Louis’ comment. His eyes go wide, realizing he let himself become distracted again, resulting in his food being burned. He quickly flips the sandwich on to the other side, seeing that the one side was almost black. He shakes his head and sighs, shutting off the stove. He hated to waste food because of a petty mistake.

“It’s not my fault this time.” Louis put his hands up.

Harry doesn't say anything. He lifts the pan up, stepping towards the trash can and dumping the burnt sandwich in. He turns around, setting the pan in the sink.

The sound of the front door unlocking and opening caught his attention. His gaze snapped in the direction. Out of his peripheral vision he tried to observe Louis’ actions, and hoped he wouldn't disappear like he always has.

There are footsteps heard approaching the kitchen. Gemma appears, holding her tote containing her books and textbooks.

“Hi, Gem.” Harry waved to her, leaning against the sink. Louis still stood beside him.

Her nose scrunched in disgust, immediately noticing the potent odor of burnt food.

“What did you burn while trying to cook?” she asks, disgusted.

“I tried to make a cheese toastie,” Harry responds, embarrassed. He shied away a little. He hears Louis laughing beside him, mocking his attempt.

She softly chuckles, but doesn't say anything.

“Would you like to help me put up the tree later?” Harry asks her, figuring it’s the right time to ask the question.

She nods. “Of course.” She takes a step toward them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why would you ask? It’s a family tradition we do every year.”

Harry shrugs, unable to answer the question. He understands that she is correct. But he was trying to stir up some attempt at a conversation.

Gemma turns to Louis, preparing to ask him a question. She knows she hasn’t seen him in quite some time.

“Long time, no see,” she says, with a small smile.

“I’ve been around,” Louis responds. “You just can’t see me.” He finishes with a smirk, but it doesn’t last. He breaks eye contact with her, his eyes flicking to Harry, who manages to look at him through the corner of his eyes.

Harry noticed it was becoming dark outside already. It being December the sun set earlier in the day obviously. He wanted to wait for their mum to get home, but he’s too eager to set the Christmas tree up.

 

*

 

Sitting on the sofa together, Louis and Harry watch as Daisy and Phoebe dig through the bag of ornaments. Gemma occasionally put some on the tree, but she let the girls continue - because it’s not like they’ve actually had a proper Christmas in years. Anne was in the kitchen, preparing some hot tea. It was appropriate for the frigid weather.

Harry turned to Louis, a thought struck him. “I’ve never seen any photographs of you when you were a young lad.” He figures because Louis has seen plenty of his.

Louis shrugs. “Well, it’s not like there’s much to show you.” He digs his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. “Before my belongings were taken from the house, I took some of the photographs and kept them. It’s good to keep something to remind you of who you are.” He pulls out an old photo of him trying to push Lottie’s pram. Harry definitely could tell it was aged considering the colors and the yellowish tint. Louis pulls out another of him, about five, standing behind his birthday cake with the widest smile across his face.

Harry lightly chuckles, seeing the bowl haircut. But he wasn’t trying to mock him. It was the last thing he’d do. He spots the edge of a driver’s license peaking out from behind the photos in his hands. Harry slyly lifts his hand up, sliding it underneath Louis’.

“What’s this?” he murmurs, his lips curving upwards into a smirk. He pulls it upward before Louis could stop him. He appeared younger in the photo than how he seemed now. Harry’s eyes dropped down to the expiration date, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Like I said before, it’s a tad expired,” Louis huffed, with pure humor. “But it’s not like I need it anymore though.”

Harry acknowledged that Louis was right. But it led him to remember Halloween and how he let him drive - and how nerve wracking that was for him.

Louis spotted Lottie out of the corner of his eye. She plopped down beside her brother.

“Now what are you two up to?” She had noticed they were laughing and snickering on the sofa, intriguing her. Her eyes fall to the photos in his hands, focusing on them. “These were the photos you had spoken about.” He lets her take them from his hands. “Wow…” She swallows hard, regarding the old pictures with a pinch of dolor. But it didn’t upset her as much as she thought it would.

Anne steps into the room, carrying two piping hot mugs of tea. She hands one to Harry, then to Gemma. She wasn't adjusted to the amount of kids around, since it was only the three of them. But she definitely wasn't hostile towards them. They are Louis’ siblings, after all.

“Which tea is that?” Louis asks Harry as he holds the steaming mug up to his mouth.

Harry shrugs. He’s actually not sure which one his mum made, having not gotten up from the couch since before she went into the kitchen. He snaps his wrist away as soon as the liquid burns his tongue a little, which causes him to flinch. He didn't know why he reacted the way he did, considering he should have expected it by choosing to drink right away.

“Would you like anything, Louis?” Anne asks him, before leaving the room. She felt rude for not taking it into consideration to ask him.

Louis glanced at the mug in Harry’s hand before answering the question. “Sure.” He wasn’t sure if his siblings would like anything, but he figures they would have spoken up.

“It seems like our mums have hit it off really well,” Louis spoke, from observation. He thought it was a good time to mention it. Judging by how Harry reacted, he seemed clueless about it.

Harry was left surprised, considering that Anne always told him everything. But she seemed to have left that part out. He could only begin to wonder when they met, and how long it has been.

Coincidentally, they both could hear voices from the kitchen. Both instantly identifying their mum’s. Harry had been totally convinced his mum was aloof about the ghosts, but this defeated his claim. Though, he was glad that he was wrong.

Hearing two pairs of footsteps approach the room, Harry swiftly turns his head to see Anne and Johannah, both in conversation and both holding mugs - Anne holding two, one obviously for Louis. There was a smile across Anne’s face that Harry rarely sees ever since she step foot in the house again.

Anne handed a mug to Louis, who took it earnestly. The hot ceramic warmed his bloodless hands, providing warmth throughout his apparitional body. He holds the mug upwards, taking a careful sip of the steamy liquid.

“You girls are fast.” Jay observes how quickly the tree had been decorated in such a short amount of time. But she couldn’t blame them for being eager.

“Isn’t someone’s birthday coming up soon?” Lottie changes the subject, turning to her brother, smirking.

Louis rolls his eyes in reaction. Although he had stopped counting after several years, he still wasn’t ever excited for his birthday. He could see Harry turn to him, the biggest smile across his face.

“Oh, what I have in store for you,” Harry murmured, almost inaudibly as he takes several sips of his tea. Louis heard him though, and couldn’t help but speculate as he gaped at him for several seconds. The only conclusion Louis could come to was birthday sex, which to him, seemed a little cliché. But he wasn’t going to reject Harry’s idea to his face.

“How about we keep this clean,” Louis whispers to Harry, implying their conversation and the presence of kids in the room. This only caused Harry to snicker, especially because it was coming from Louis, of all people.

Anne scans the room, her eyes spotting Daisy, Phoebe, Lottie and Félicité. Using common sense, she knew who they were.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met your daughters yet,” she announces, flicking her eyes back upward to Jay, who motioned for them to introduce themselves.

“Félicité,” Félicité introduced herself first, with a short wave and a small, warm smile. She stood by the tree. She noticed no one else spoke, and a silence settled in the room. It caused her to feel as if she should take the initiative. Her eyes dropped down to the twins. “And this is Phoebe and Daisy,” she continued ardently. Her eyes lifted upward to Lottie who still sat on the sofa, but before she could continue, Lottie cut her off:

“Lottie,” she said with animation. She observed how Anne’s eyes raked over the four of them once more, trying to familiarize herself with their faces.

Anne couldn’t help but feel a little sadness as she met gazes with the four girls. Their young lives cut so short. Especially having kids of her own, she shared the same motherly instincts. She couldn’t imagine if she lost Gemma or Harry, as young as they are.

“You have beautiful daughters,” Anne comments to Johannah, who couldn’t help but smile in reaction to her compliment.

“Thank you.”

Harry didn’t realize the familiarity of Phoebe’s face to him until now. He tried to recall the morning after his party, how he spotted her staring at him from through the sliver opening in his doorway. He debates if he should say anything or not.

He could feel Louis’ finger brush up against his shoulder, breaking him out of the deep train of thought. His head snaps toward Louis.

“You alright?”

Harry immediately responds by nodding. “Yeah. I actually need to use the loo.” Louis lifts his arm up from around Harry’s shoulders to let him go. Harry leans forward to stand up. “Be right back.” All that tea had filled his bladder quickly, and he didn’t notice until he snapped himself out of the his thoughts.

Harry turns off the faucet as he finished washing his hands. As he lifts his head upward, but before he could receive a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he's forcefully yanked backward, an arm wraps itself around his neck, restraining head movement. A pitched sound emits from his throat.

Harry’s eyes shot upward in the direction of the mirror. The all-too familiar face struck him, like a stab to the stomach. The woman stood behind him, with a overly furious disposition.

“Your boyfriend is the reason why me, along with Chris are dead.” The words slipped off her tongue like venom. A provoked snake ready to attack at any moment. There was a certain anger she expressed though the word “boyfriend”. She holds up a knife taken from the kitchen, setting it against his throat.

A small whimper escaped Harry’s throat, terrified. He lifts his wet hands up, trying to grab her wrists, but they have no gripping force. He feels powerless.

“Unfortunately, I can’t slash his throat because he’s already dead. So you’re my next option.”

“B-but why would you want anything to do with me?” Harry objects, his voice strained as her arm pushed against his neck. “I had nothing to do with it.”

She scoffs. “You buried our bodies in the backyard.”

Harry was too overwhelmed to think rationally. He only sought to escape the jeopardous situation - which obviously there wasn’t going to be a simple course of action.

“Listen,” Harry began, trying to sound sincere as possible. “I’m sorry, okay?” He couldn’t fathom why he was apologizing to a person who had planned to kill him in the first place, but it was the only option he could muster at the moment. Though the woman had vile intentions, he was terrified beyond anything at the moment.

She scoffs again, disregarding his apology as a pathetic attempt to make last minute amends.

There were several knocks on the door. Harry didn’t realize how long he had been taking until now, which led him to assume Louis was searching for him. Both their heads snapped in the direction of the door. Harry could hear her heave a sigh of annoyance, being interrupted.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice was heard from behind the door. “You’ve been gone a long time. Is everything alright?”

The side of her hand pressed more against his throat, causing it to be harder for Harry to utter a word without his voice being strained. He almost choked on air as he continued to breathe.

The door jam twists, signaling that Louis was opening the door. The woman grumbles, watching the door continue to open.

“Fucking hell.”

Harry isn’t aware he’s standing there alone until the door is wide open. He had been freed. He could feel his heartbeat slow down and regulate as relief washed through him. He awkwardly meets Louis’ gaze, who gapes at him in the doorway. Harry’s unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Louis repeats the question to double check with him, not entirely convinced.

Harry nods immediately. “Yeah. Of course.” He steps out of the bathroom as fast as his feet could take him. He hoped Louis wouldn’t question him and that would be the end of it. “Let’s go.” He starts back to the living room, ushering Louis to follow him.

 

* * *

 

Cocooned underneath the bedsheets, Harry and Louis lay closely side by side. Louis’ arm is tucked underneath Harry’s, who held him close as he slept. The morning sun rest upon the floorboards as it poured into the room.

Harry’s eyes opened. He rolled over on his other shoulder, facing Louis, whose eyes opened as soon as Harry turned. A grin is tugged up on Harry’s lips, as he couldn’t help it staring at Louis with his translucent, green eyes.

“Happy birthday, Lou,” Harry utters, the grin remaining across his face.

Louis scoffs, rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He rests his hands on his chest.

“I may have stopped counting after a few years, but you reminding me sets the perspective.” His lips form a direct frown, and he shudders. “Time passes by so quickly, yet we don’t even realize it.”

“That’s deep,” Harry commented, but agreeing with him. He watches as Louis rolls back onto his shoulder, facing Harry. He lifts his hand up, resting it on Harry’s bare shoulder and slowly sliding down his bicep.

“How are you not cold?” Louis asks him, not putting much thought into the question. It was definitely below freezing outside, and inside it wasn’t much warmer.

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t cringe as Louis’ icy hand comes in contact with his skin, as it’s his normal reaction.

“If only we could actually do something worthwhile today, instead of being locked in this house all the time,” Louis mutters, with disdain in his voice. “Like go clubbing, I guess.” His arm falls back down to the mattress, his eyes dropping from Harry’s gaze.

“I thought you said you dreaded your birthday?” Harry counters, stifling a snicker.

“Also in the sense I can’t do anything I would like to do. It gets redundant after awhile.”

“I’m sure it does,” Harry commented, trying to empathize with him.

“That’s also why I stopped caring about my birthday.”

“Well, I’ll at least try to make this one memorable,” Harry spoke up, trying to lift his spirits. Louis’ eyes finally lift upward to meet Harry’s, who held that same smile across his face. “I would lie here all day if I could,” Harry enamors, lying flat on his back.

“I’m sure you would,” Louis retorts, lightheartedly. He watched as Harry leaned forward, and stared down at him.

“Well, we don’t have all day.” He chuckles lightly, turning and leaning downward towards Louis, who now lies on his back. Harry places his lips on his, the kiss seeming less subtle than he imagined. He lowered himself, his left hand lifting up and sliding underneath Louis’ pants.

Although he was aware of where Harry’s hand was going, Louis didn’t express any reaction. Instead, he deepened the kiss; the intensity of the sensation amplifying. He was aware of Harry’s intentions, but Louis wasn’t going to refuse.

Harry’s hand glided up and down Louis’ length as they stay lip locked. He started to prepare to snake his body downwards the bed. He could hear a soft moan emit from Louis between movement of their lips, letting him know he was doing his job right. The corners of Harry’s lips curved upward. He set his elbows on the mattress, preparing to recoil his body.

The sound of the door creaking open caught both of their attention, breaking both Harry and Louis’ attention. Harry’s head immediately snaps in the direction of the door, as does Louis’ too.

Lottie stood in the doorway. It was evident this was not the sight she expected to see stepping into the room. She was unaware that her jaw was hanging slightly open.

“I-I’m so sorry,” she apologized, stuttering on her words. “I came by to wish you a happy birthday because I knew you’d be in here.”

“Next time knock,” Louis responds, a tad brash. He scoffs, shaking his head, irritated.

Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead he only nods, agreeing with Louis. He unwraps his hand from around Louis’ cock, understanding the perfect moment was ruined. He felt rather awkward resuming.

As soon as she leaves, Harry sits upward, and so does Louis. Feeling hungry, Harry decides to grab breakfast. The day shouldn’t be wasted, and he wanted to seize every moment possible.

“I’m going to go grab something to eat,” Harry announces, sliding his legs over onto the floor. He noticed that Louis didn’t follow him as he left his bedroom. It’s not like he usually did, but he remembered the last time he left Louis alone and things had gotten quite heated between them beforehand.

 

Louis wanders over toward the area where Harry kept the presents. He hadn’t noticed them before, and they piqued his curiosity.

Harry steps into the room, and his eyes immediately land on Louis, standing over by the secluded corner where he kept the presents for his mum and Gemma. He didn’t think twice before hurrying over to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Harry was determined for the presents to be a surprise for tomorrow, and he was afraid Louis would ruin it. He had managed to achieve this far without anyone else knowing but him.

Louis’ head snapped up toward him. “Oh, sorry. I saw the wrapped packages and I was curious about them.”

“They’re for my mum and Gemma, for tomorrow,” Harry responds eagerly. He takes another step toward him, preparing to shoo him away.

Louis takes another look, noticing a package that didn’t quite look like the others. It was a medium square box, wrapped in striped wrapping paper and a blue bow on top. “Who’s this one for?” He points to it as he turns back to Harry.

Harry’s jaw falls agape, remembering he left that one out. He had bought it awhile back, but he managed to keep it hidden better. He picks it up off the floor, ushering Louis to follow him.

“Harry…” Louis begins, getting an idea of where this is going. Harry sits down at the edge of his bed, instructing Louis to follow. Louis sits down beside him.

Harry hands it to him, a wide grin across his face. “Happy birthday.”

“Harry…” Louis can’t find words to finish his sentence as he takes the package from Harry’s hands. He gapes down at it in his lap, then turns his gaze back up to Harry. “Why would you? You know that I’ve told you to keep your money.”

“Just open it,” Harry demands, ignoring Louis’ words. He watches as Louis slowly rips the wrapping paper off. The paper fell to the floor, revealing an Adidas shoe box.

Louis doesn’t say anything. Instead, he opens the box, and inside were black Superstars with white stripes. His jaw falls to the floor. He could tell they weren’t cheap. His gaze immediately snaps toward Harry.

“You’re not finding how how much I spent,” Harry says, before Louis could speak.

“I’ve told you not to spend any money on me.” Louis appeared a little annoyed, but of course he was grateful. “Why do you insist?” He shakes his head, causing Harry to chuckle.

“Because I love you.” Harry leans forward toward Louis, their lips meeting. Harry realized his response was probably cheesy and cliché, but it was the only response he could muster at the moment. Louis sets the box beside him so it doesn’t slide and fall off his lap.

They break away after about a minute and a half. Harry wouldn’t mind resuming where they were interrupted earlier. But he could see that Louis had another idea.

“Follow me,” Louis instructs, standing up and starting for the door. Harry questions where he could be leading him.

Harry follows him down the staircase. Instead of asking, he decides to continue to follow him.

Louis rounds the bannister, proceeding down the hallway. Harry stops in his tracks as soon as he realizes where he’s being led to. The basement. He only had awful experiences in that basement, and had no desire to explore it again.

Louis noticed that Harry stopped following him. He turns around to see him standing frozen, gaping at the door to the basement.

“It’s just the basement, Harry,” Louis says, opening the door. “They won’t bite.” He referred to the ghosts who often hid down there.

Harry scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Sighing, Louis waves him over once more. “I promise you that you will be okay. Plus, you’re not going alone this time.”

Caving in, Harry steps toward Louis. He follows him down the cement staircase, into the dank and frigid basement. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to provide his arms warmth. The basement wasn’t much warmer than the temperature outside.

Louis flips the light switch, the whole room lit up. Harry proceeds to follow him toward the wall on the opposite, far side of the room. His eyebrows furrow, but before he could say anything, Louis crouches down onto the cement floor. He lays his hand on the wall, sliding it up and across until it comes to a stop. He uses both hands to grab the brick on each side, sliding it out from the wall.

Harry crouches down, seeing a bundle of photographs in Louis’ hands. One had to have been taken around the turn of the twentieth century, considering the quality of the photo and how the people in it were dressed. He understood they were the first owners of the house.

Louis sorts through the photos. Some of them have deteriorated over time, but overall they were still in decent condition. He holds up a picture of him as a baby, and another, at Christmas of he and his family standing by the decorated tree.

“How come you keep the photographs in the wall?” Harry asks, without considering the explanation beforehand.

“I don’t have anywhere else to store them,” Louis responds, his tone dank. “I can’t keep them all with me.” He sighs. “I don't come by here that often. But you're an exception.” He meets Harry’s gaze. “I'm surprised these managed to stay in good condition, being in such a decrepit environment.” He flicked his gaze to the photograph of the other family. He picks it up. “This was already in the wall when I found it. I just kept it in there and stored these. Seemed like a good place to hide them.”

Harry’s nods, agreeing. His eyes drop down to the pictures in his hands again, displaying happy faces, full of life. Totally unaware of their future. Louis holds up a photograph of he and his mum. He had to be around three or four. She was crouched down. He sat on her lap, smiling and waving at the camera, as her arms were wrapped around his waist.

Harry isn’t so sure why Louis is sharing these photographs with him. He knew they were very valuable to him. But he figured it had to do with the question he asked him, about not seeing any photographs of he or his family. He realized it was a stupid question when it rolled off his tongue, considering he wasn’t sure where Louis would have any still.

The door opened, but Harry didn’t react to the sound, and instead kept his attention on the bundle of photographs in Louis’ hands.

“Harry? Are you down there?”

Harry’s head snapped in the direction of his mum’s voice. He stood up, stepping towards the staircase to respond to her.

“Yeah, it’s just Louis and I.”

“Can you come upstairs for a moment? I need to talk to you.” She stood on the top step of the staircase. Harry turned back to Louis before obeying his mum.

“Go.” Louis gave a waver of his hand, without making eye contact with him as his eyes remained on the photographs in his hands. Harry turns back around and proceeds out of the frigid basement. He was actually thankful that he could escape it, wearing a thin t-shirt and jeans.

“What are you both doing down there? Isn’t it freezing?” It obviously wasn’t the first thing she meant to say as Harry reached the top of the staircase. She gaped at him with concern.

“Nothing important.” Harry shrugs and brushes it off. He’s curious what the reason is for being called upstairs. “What were you going to say initially?”

Anne chooses to drop the subject and switch to what she meant to say first.

“I have been talking to Robin recently, and I decided to invite he and his two kids over for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. They’re both around your and Gemma’s ages.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with that,” Anne continues, a small smile lifting across her face. “But I apologize for the short notice, though.”

“Yeah, that’s great.” Harry tried to sound enthusiastic. “I don’t mind at all.” He attempted a smile, trying to hide he being a tad annoyed by the short notice.

“You should ask him to come upstairs,” Anne insists, gesturing toward the door to the basement. “I hate leaving him down there when it’s frigid.” Before Harry could leave, she remembers that today is Louis’ birthday. She grabs his arm as Harry begins to turn around. Harry slightly turns back to her and meets her gaze.

“And wish him a happy birthday for me.” She finished the sentence with a smile. She felt it was necessary.

Harry nods. “Sure.” He then fully turned around. He swings the door open and takes several steps down the staircase to find the previously lit basement completely pitch dark now. He didn’t proceed any further, understanding that Louis had left in the short time Harry was upstairs. Unfazed, Harry turns around to proceed back upstairs. He didn’t expect Louis to remain down there without him.

By the time he reached the top of the staircase, his mum had disappeared. He climbs the staircase, back to his bedroom.

Harry steps into his room to find the shoe box missing. He understood Louis took them, most likely to try them on. Finding Louis’ shoe size was a wild guess, and Harry hoped he was accurate. He stepped toward the presents which belonged to his mum and Gemma, checking if they were still there.

“I wonder how you managed to correctly guess my shoe size.”

Harry immediately spins around on the balls of his feet, hearing the voice which belonged to Louis. He sat at the edge of Harry’s bed. He alternates lifting his legs up, to get another look at them.

“They look great on you,” Harry comments, stepping towards him. “I’m happy they fit you. It was a wild guess.”

Louis softly chuckles. “Just like those other times.” He implied all the clothes Harry had bought for him.

“My mum wished you a happy birthday.” Harry tells Louis, before he could forget.

“Tell her I said thanks.” He still didn’t seem to enthusiastic. But Harry couldn’t force him. He did what he could to lift Louis’ spirits.

Harry took another step toward him, his feet parallel to Louis’. He leans downward, Harry tilts Louis’ chin upward with his index finger, and he presses his lips against his.

“I think we should finish what we started,” Louis asserts, a smirk crawling up on his face. He kicks his shoes off, then leans backward on the bed, inching towards the pillows.

Harry situates himself above Louis, the heated ambiance in the room amplifying with each action they took to undress while remaining lip locked. Harry occasionally grinds against Louis’ cock, feeling it harden underneath the tight fabric. He maneuvered his lips down to Louis’ neckline, leaving sporadic kisses all over.

Harry could feel himself become hard, and could feel his cock fighting against the tight fabric of his underpants. But he wanted to continue to tease Louis by grinding their stiffening lengths together, and it was working, as far as Harry could tell. He could feel Louis’ hands grasp his bum as he grinds back and forth. 

A soft moan simultaneously escaped both their mouths. Louis craved taking it to the next level, but Harry wouldn’t succumb just yet. To Harry, it was a process, and it wasn’t going to be like their sloppy car sex.

 

* * *

 

Drunkenly, Louis saunters down the hallway and into Harry’s bedroom. Harry follows closely behind. They both had several drinks downstairs to finish celebrating Louis’ birthday. It would be an understatement to say they both became quite drunk. Gemma and Anne had steered clear of kitchen the whole time.

Not realizing the door was closed, Louis collides into it. He stumbles backward, but Harry catches him before he could possibly fall to the floor.

“Shit,” Louis mumbles, dazed from the alcohol. He stands back up straight once Harry catches him.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. He opens the door and they both proceed through. Harry was aware that he would be greeted with a nasty hangover in the morning. Christmas morning, of course.

They both attempt to undress each other, but it wasn’t easy at all. Struggling to take his shirt off, Harry stumbles backward and falls onto his bed, taking Louis down with him.

Louis and Harry both break into a laughter as they simultaneously crash onto the bed. To spare him the rest of the trouble, Harry figured he should leave the rest of his clothes on. He wasn’t so sure he could even manage to stand up again. He cranes his neck to see the time on his digital clock, just realizing how late the night had become.

“Well, I guess it’s time to say ‘Happy Christmas’,” Harry asserts, turning back to Louis. He starts to snake his body toward the pillows. Louis follows him. “But I hope you had a great birthday. That’s all that matters.”

“I did.” Louis’ face forms a look of disgust, realizing the hangover that they both would be dealing with in the morning. “Dreading the hangover already, though.”

Harry softly chuckles. “It was worth it.” He inches toward his pillow, resting his head down. He feels his eyelids begin to become heavy as exhaustion begins to overwhelm him. He can’t stay awake for much longer. He watches as Louis lies down beside him, pulling the duvet up and over their bodies.

Finally succumbing to the tiredness, Harry receives a final glimpse of Louis’ twinkling, blue eyes as his eyelids shut over his eyes.

“Goodnight, Harry.” Louis shuts off the light that lit the room, then his head crashes against the pillow.

 

* * *

 

Christmas morning may have been a buzzkill for Louis and Harry, but they managed to deal with the rest of the day just fine. Regardless of how awful the hangover was, they wouldn't let it ruin the day for them. 

The living room was live with spirit. Harry refused to leave Louis’ family out, as he was rather insistent on them being included. It was exciting for Harry to see the expressions on his mum’s and Gemma’s faces as they unwrapped their gifts. And likewise for them. He had also bought gifts for Louis and each of his siblings. He hid them well in another place, sure enough Louis or anyone else wouldn’t find them. He refused to let them be bystanders, watching only he and his family exchange and unwrap gifts. The expressions on their faces was priceless.

Louis and Harry sat on the floor by the tree, Louis’ arms draped around Harry’s shoulders. Both their mums sat on the couch.

“What you’ve done for my family, Harry,” Louis begins, inhaling a deep breath, “Is amazing. I’m not just talking about me, but you’ve made them feel more human. I missed seeing the genuine smiles on their faces.” He briefly takes a glimpse at his sisters as a smile grows across his face, then turns back to Harry.

“You don’t need to thank me. There was no way I was going to leave them out.” He pauses. “You're pretty much considered family now.” Harry didn't mean just Louis, and he hoped that Louis understood that.

“How about we all take a photograph together,” Anne proposed, leaning forward to stand up.

Harry gave her a puzzled look in response. He’s not sure how the picture would be taken, considering they didn’t have a tripod and there isn’t anyone to take it.

“That’s how you make memories, isn’t it?” she says blithely, insistent. She stood up and grabbed the camera off the end table.

Harry nudges Louis to follow him. He didn’t mind his mum’s idea at all, but it was easier said than done. Every Christmas was last Christmas, and he understood that you should always make the most of it each year.

“You have to be in the photo, mum,” Harry insists, as she ushers everyone to stand in front of the fireplace while she turns on the camera.

Anne shakes her head, giving a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Gemma steps forward, reaching her hand out for the camera.

“I’ll take it.” She doesn’t realize right away that a woman is approaching behind Anne. She seemed curious.

Harry immediately recognized her. Dorothy. He doubted that she would even know how to operate the camera. It was a different device than she had ever used. He exchanges puzzled glances with Louis.

Anne turns around once Gemma motions to Dorothy who approached her from behind.

“Oh, hello,” Anne musters, greeting her warmly. She had become quite acclimated to the ghosts, and they didn’t bother her as much as they did anymore.

Without a word, Dorothy carefully takes the camera from Anne’s hands. She motions her to stand with her family by the fireplace.

“Do you know how to use it?” Anne questions, skeptical. Dorothy turns her gaze down to the camera in her ivory hands.

“You press down that button?” She points to the round, silver button.

Anne smiles and nods. “Precisely.”

“Just point and shoot,” says Louis, trying to be humorous, but in a totally non-mocking way. Harry drapes his arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to look more intimate. Anne squeezes herself beside Johannah, the two families side-by-side, but Louis standing with Harry.

Dorothy paid very close attention to the screen. The correct amount of zoom was already set, so she only needed to press the button down. She could feel anxiety rising inside her, afraid she would screw up. Aiming the lense to capture everybody, she finally presses her index finger down on the button. The flash goes off, and the camera makes a ‘click’ sound. Dorothy is startled by the sound, but she tries not to express any reaction.

“Thank you.” Anne steps forward to take the camera.

Dorothy only smiles in response. She carefully hands the camera back to Anne. Anne checks the photo, and her face lit up.

“You took a wonderful photo,” Anne comments. The smile across Dorothy’s face only grew wider.

“Thank you.” Her voice was mousy as she responded to the complement. She expressed a bit of shyness.

Anne turned away to show them all the photo.

“That’s perfect,” Jay beams.

Anne turns around to thank Dorothy again, but to her dismay, she’s vanished. The smile on Anne’s face falls, but she chooses to brush it off. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Anne realizes that she should check on the dinner cooking in the kitchen. Robin is supposed to arrive in just under a few hours, and she’s determined to have dinner ready and prepared by the time of his arrival.

“Would you excuse me, I have to check in on the kitchen.” She hands the camera to Gemma, then hurries away, out of the room. Gemma follows behind her.

“We didn’t expect you to actually buy us any gifts,” Félicité says, turning toward Harry. Lottie agrees with her, and so do the twins. By observation, it was easy to assume they were all quite taken very aback. It was unexpected.

“I would have felt bad if I didn’t.” Harry shrugs. “It’s Christmas. Neither of you were going to be left out.”

“Well, it was very kind of you,” Jay enamors, with a warm smile. “You sure made their day.”

Louis’ family glowing with happiness only made Harry happy as well. The day is turning out better than he imagined. But it wasn’t over yet.

 

*

 

The table was full of chatter, which belonged to Harry’s whole family, and Robin’s. Harry expected the particular question to pop up soon from his grandmother; if he was seeing anyone. But he made it halfway through dinner without being asked, which he was thankful for.

“You bought a lovely house,” Anne’s mum remarks. She was quite amazed by the style and architecture.

Anne exchanges uneasy looks with both her kids. Her mum didn’t know half the story, but she wanted to keep it that way.

“Thank you.” Anne responds with an attempted smile to hide the uncomfortable sentiment. She takes a sip of her wine, as does Harry too.

“So, Harry,” Anne’s mother begins, stabbing a piece of the ham with her fork. Harry knows exactly where this is going. He made it this far. “Any love interests in your life?”

Knowing he should tell the truth, Harry doesn’t hesitate to respond. He nods, setting his wine glass down and picking up the fork.

“What’s his name?” She eagerly asks, her green eyes remaining on him.

“Louis.” The name slipped off Harry’s tongue so sweetly, like melted chocolate. He expressed some enthusiasm, which indicated his contentment.

“You seem very happy,” she comments, delighted for her grandson.

“I’m sure he’s a nice lad, isn’t he?” His granddad asks a rhetorical question, but Harry responds anyway.

Harry nods again, continuing to chew his food before verbally responding.

“Yes, yes he is. He’s amazing.” Harry can only speculate Louis’ whereabouts, and if he was present in the room. Harry wouldn’t be fazed if that were true. He knew Louis too well.

The expression on Robin’s face suddenly changed. He quickly grew uncomfortable, grabbing the attention of Anne first, then Harry.

“Why did it suddenly get so cold?” he remarks, tugging his suit jacket closer to him.

Both his son and daughter shrugged, unable to relate. The room temperature was perfect to them.

“It’s actually warm in here?” Gemma remarks, puzzled. She briefly glances at Anne, who remains expressionless. She couldn’t figure out a possible reason, unlike Harry, who has had more experiences with the ghosts.

There was more than one suspect he could point to. He didn’t want to just point fingers at Louis, regardless of his habits when they have guests over. However, it’s not like he acts upon those habits all those times.

Robin finally begins to relax after several minutes, the aura passing on. He resumed eating, unbothered; not questioning the occurrence. Nobody bothered to bring it up, choosing to drop it.

Excusing himself from the table, and doing so without raising any suspicion, Harry exits the dining room and enters the kitchen to find Louis leaning against the island. Harry approaches him with an icy, cold stare.

“Do I even need to ask?” Harry crosses his arms over his chest, a firm scowl across his face.

“Ghost,” Louis responds petulantly. “We’re supposed to make people uncomfortable. It’s in our nature.”

Harry’s eyes roll far to the back of his head, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you realize that this isn’t the appropriate time, and how important this is to my mum? She was afraid to invite anyone over for months because of this exact reason.” He pauses, realizing he came off a bit too harsh. Before he could continue speaking, he hears footsteps behind him. Harry spins around to see his grandmother standing in the entrance to the dining room.

“Who are you talking to?” Her eyebrows pinch. She knew she heard Harry’s voice, and it sparked her curiosity. Harry quickly glances over his shoulder to see that Louis had vanished, which he expected to happen.

“Just a friend on the phone,” Harry quickly finds a convincing enough lie. He knows his grandmother will believe him. “I was wishing them a Merry Christmas.”

“You should come back to dinner, Harry.” She ushers him back into the dining room. Harry reluctantly follows her. He’s a tad irked that his conversation with Louis was interrupted.

“I was wondering where you went,” Gemma remarks, as Harry sits back down.

He shrugs, waving it off. “Nothing really important.” He chooses to proceed eating his dinner, as everyone was almost done with theirs.

 

 

The door shuts for the final time, as everyone had finally left. Harry could finally breathe again. It was overwhelming when they had large family over during the holidays.

Feeling beat, he decides to head upstairs and prepare to go to sleep. The day had exhausted him pretty well. Harry drags his feet up the staircase, one step by one. It felt like a long journey to him.

He didn’t hesitate to undress and throw on his pajamas as soon as he entered his room. By the time he brushed his teeth, he wasn’t sure he could stay awake much longer. He steps out of the bathroom to find Louis sitting at the edge of his bed, waiting for him.

“I apologize for earlier,” he begins. “I didn’t think you would be that mad.”

Harry gives a wave of his hand as he trudges toward Louis. “I overrreacted. You don’t have to apologize.” He throws the sheets back, sliding his legs underneath. His head hits the pillow.

“I had a lovely Christmas, Harry.” Louis realizes that Harry is struggling to stay awake, so he decides to confess now.

“Well, every Christmas is last Christmas,” Harry mumbles, making eye contact with him. “And I’m grateful that I got to spend it with you.”

Louis couldn’t help but smile in response to Harry’s heartwarming statement. He didn’t know if he could love him any more.

“Likewise,” Louis responds, the smile remaining across his face. He continues to observe Harry as he slowly drifts off. He debates whether or not he should curl up beside him, since it’s what he has been doing.

 

* * *

 

New Year's Eve had arrived rather quickly. The week was passing by so fast it was ridiculous. Since Christmas, Harry felt as if he had grown closer to Louis’ family, and likewise for them with Harry’s.

Comparatively to every year, Harry had been invited to a New Year's party, hosted by Ianto. However, this year he’s not so sure he’s going to attend. He was leaning more toward spending it with Louis instead, since there’s no telling he will have the opportunity again next year.

Stepping off the bottom step of the staircase and onto the floor, Harry saunters toward the kitchen to grab a late lunch.

Anne gazes at him as he steps into the kitchen. She expected him to be preparing to leave for the party he always attends every year. Feeling his mum’s eyes on his back, Harry spins around to explain.

“Before you ask, I decided not to go this year.” He turns back to the fridge to grab and reheat leftover soup from last night.

“How come? You’ve never missed that party.” Anne remains skeptical, unable to figure out her son’s unprecedented behavior.

Harry shrugs. “I just decided not to go this year. It’s no big deal.” He takes the soup bowl out of the fridge and then opens the microwave.

Anne still remained skeptical. “Gemma’s gone out with her friends. I just find it peculiar that you’re hanging home this year.” She knew it was much more than that, but whatever it was Harry chose not to tell her.

Harry turns back to her as soon as he sets the bowl in the microwave and sets the time to turn it on.

“You don’t need to worry about me, mum. I promise you that everything is fine.” He understood he’s not going to fully convince her, but at least he could attempt.

“Well, that’s totally up to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Deciding to leave the room, she doesn’t say anything else and turns around.

“You should really go to that party.”

Harry’s heart almost skips a beat as he heard Louis’ voice from behind him. He jumps, startled, then spins around on the balls of his feet to see Louis standing just a few inches away.

“Do you always have to scare me like that?” Harry’s heart began to normalize its beat again. He understood the question was rhetorical.

“Is that even a question?” Louis stares at Harry incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you forget what I said on Christmas?”

Harry rolls his eyes, remembering.

“Go to the party, Harry,” Louis insists. “Please don’t revolve your life around me. I’ll always be here. I can’t go anywhere, anyway.”

Harry shakes his head. “I’m not up for it. Plus, it’s the same party I go to every year.” The microwave beeps, signalling it was finished. Harry takes the boiling hot soup out, setting it on the counter to cool.

“Well, I can’t force you,” Louis drops his arms to his waist. He was aware that Harry had another plan beside not going because he simply didn’t want to. Louis wasn’t stupid. But he also wasn’t going to argue with Harry over a decision that affected him. It wasn’t worth it.

 

Having had several drinks in the past two hours, Harry and Louis were quite smashed. They both lie in Harry’s bed, cocooned in the sheets without a single piece of clothing on. It had gotten crazy earlier, but they eventually made it upstairs where they’re not in danger of wrecking anything expensive by accident.

Harry wasn’t even sure what time it was. They had frittered so much time just lying side by side, drunkenly talking silly; having little idea of what they were even saying.

“I’m so glad I didn’t go to that party,” Harry says, lying on his back. ”Lying here with you is a million times better.”

Louis snickers. “I’m sure it is.” He can now understand why Harry chose not to attend the party. These intimate moments they shared together couldn't even compare.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow, questioning the time. He leans forward to take a look at his digital clock. Three minutes until midnight. Through his drunken state of mind, he understood the ‘New Year’s Eve kiss’ was cliché, but he’s also never had one before. He turned on his side, inching closer to Louis, their noses centimeters apart.

“Happy New Year’s,” A smile curves up on Harry’s face. He checks the clock again. One minute. He leans his head forward, pressing his lips against Louis’. The ‘boom’ of fireworks were heard from several miles away. Neither of them break away, the tensions only increasing between them.


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, this chapter took SO LONG to write. But I have been tied up with school and other activities holding me back from writing. And I also procrastinated...But I apologize for taking this long. My goal for the last two chapters is to fit a lot and to take my time on them so they're great last chapters, since it's basically wrapping up the story line. And you can see that by how long this chapter is, if it's not longer than the last chapter. I'm hoping 12 doesn't take this long, but I'm not sure. But I can't believe I'll be starting the last chapter, time flies by so quickly.

They entered the room and the door was accidentally left open a crack. Louis shoves Harry against the wall, their lips moving in sync as they undress each other. Harry was aware of his intentions, but he didn’t stop him. Moving down to his neckline, Louis left sloppy, wet kisses all over, and occasionally sucking Harry’s delicate skin.

“It’s my turn now,” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, a smirk crawling up on his face. He removes his jeans, leaving his throbbing length fighting against the tight fabric of his underpants.

“How did I know you had these intentions on my birthday,” Harry utters, his voice a tad strained. He feels Louis’ hand grasp his hardening cock through his underpants, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. “Fuck me,” Harry curses, as Louis’ hand snakes into his boxers, grasping his length and slowly freeing it from the tight fabric.

“My pleasure,” Louis snickers. They don’t make it to the bed before all their clothes are removed and scattered on the floor. Both their hard cocks grind together as he resumes kissing Harry’s neck as they stand at the edge of Harry’s bed. He slowly maneuvers downward Harry’s chest and stomach, eventually reaching his ‘v’ line. Louis doesn’t stop. He kneels on the floor, wrapping his small hand around Harry’s length.

Wetly popping off, Louis slowly stands back upward. They situate themselves on the bed, Harry leaning against his pillows. He spreads his legs and props them up, his feet pressed against the duvet.

Louis grabs the lube off the end table, squirting it onto his two fingers. He spreads it against Harry’s bum.

Harry doesn’t say anything and only continues to watch Louis’ actions. Louis slides his index finger into Harry’s bum. It doesn’t take long for him to add a second, causing a sound to emit from Harry’s throat.

Louis’ scissors his slippery fingers, rotating his wrist and pressing against the exterior of Harry’s arsehole as they inch deeper. He occasionally sneaks glimpses at Harry, who emits a weak cry. Harry shudders as Louis’ fingers slide deeper. He feels goosebumps prickle all over his body, especially his hardened nipples.

Harry squirms as Louis’ fingers inch deeper towards his prostate. He spreads his legs wider. His head rolls back onto the pillow, his eyes attached to the ceiling.

“Fuck,” he curses, almost inaudibly as he chokes on a breath. He lifts his head up, his eyes blazing on Louis. “Please just fuck me already.” As much as he tried to sound assertive, his demand was masked by his weakened voice.

Louis chuckles lightly. Obeying Harry’s demand, he slides his fingers out. He slowly guides his cock into Harry’s bum. Harry whimpers, but it turns into a soft moan. Starting out slowly and steadily, Louis thrusts back and forth. Harry wasn’t adjusted to the thickness of Louis’ cock yet. It _was_ the first time, after all.

Louis leans downward, their lips connecting as he thrusts back and forth. Sweat caked their bodies. Harry lifts his legs up, but they still remained bent. He wraps them around Louis’ lower back.

“Faster,” Harry demands, breaking the kiss. It wasn’t enough for him. Obeying, Louis immediately quickens his speed. He holds Harry’s hands on each side of Harry’s waist.

A throaty moan escapes Harry’s mouth, his head rolling backward on the pillow. Louis’ body pressed against Harry’s cock as he remained in the same position. Their lips moved in sync, tiny moans occasionally escaping. Their foreheads are pressed together as they both rock back and forth on the duvet.

Harry’s vision began to blur as Louis’ thrusts started to become more rough and violent. But he didn’t stop him. He didn’t want to.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasps. He shoves his sweaty hair that’s glued to his forehead, backward. His cheeks were rosy, and his skin glistened with sweat.

Louis smirks, seeing Harry so overwhelmed and stunned. It wasn’t anything Harry expected. He slams himself deeper into Harry without any warning, causing Harry to moan louder than usual.

“Fuck,” Louis gasps, his hips snapping back and forth.

Another inaudible curse escapes Harry’s throat. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few short seconds, feeling Louis’ soft lips brush against his neck again. As Louis leaned upward, Harry took a glance at his own throbbing cock as it bounced on his tummy, causing him to want to pump himself badly. However, Louis’ hands kept his hands restrained.

Harry’s hips buck upward as Louis leans downward again. Their labored breathing becomes louder. Louis heaves another breath, and exhaling onto Harry’s skin. Their trembling lips meet again, Louis dipping his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

“Fuck--Louis,” Harry croaks, “Fucking hell.” Harry is already well spent. He wheezes as he heaves another shaky breath. He stares up into Louis’ translucent, blue eyes.

“Oh, Harry,” Louis exhales, breaking away his lips. He never slowed down, keeping his fast pace the same as he continues to mercilessly slam himself into Harry’s body.

Being so energized, Louis didn’t express any exhaustion. He refused to slow down. He retracts his right hand, freeing Harry’s. Harry’s hand immediately wrapped itself around his own cock stroking up and down at a quickened speed.

“Oh my--fuck,” Harry gasps, following a whimper. His hand flies over his cock, the pink, throbbing head popping out of the foreskin and his fist. The feeling of Louis’ rough thrusts only added to the sensation he was experiencing throughout his body. His jaw hangs open, and his arms and legs are trembling.

Fixing his damp fringe as it hung over his eyes and clouded his vision, Louis pushes it back onto his head. He gazed down into Harry’s pale, green eyes. Harry seemed dazed, which he expected, as he inched deeper and his thrusts stayed fast and rough. He attempted to steady his irregular breathing.

“You truly never cease to surprise me,” Harry utters, with a throaty and deepened voice.

Louis could only smile, amused by Harry’s comment. He continued to thrust deeper, towards Harry’s prostate, which caused another whimper and moan to emit from Harry’s throat.

Louis clears his throat before speaking. “I will really miss this one day.” It was a thought that randomly struck him. But it wasn’t the appropriate time to bring it up.

Harry definitely was aware of what he was trying to get across. But he tried not to think about it, regardless if Louis brought it up. His hand suddenly began to quicken, often adding a tight squeeze. He viciously bites down on his lip, enough to draw blood. He arches his back.

“Louis, you are so--amazing,” Harry manages, in between breaths. He knows he taught Louis well. “Fuck!” His head rolls backward onto the pillow.

“I know I am,” Louis snickers, through his labored breathing. He gazes down at Harry, his cheeks pink and his green eyes glued to the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

Anne steps through the door. She shudders, as the icy air encircled her for the last time before the door was shut. She sets Harry’s cake on the table, then takes off her coat.

Gemma emerges from the kitchen. Her eyes lay on the cake on the table, impressed. Although Harry was only turning nineteen, she was surprised that their mum didn’t buy a cake from the grocery story, but had one made for him personally. She hadn’t known about it until now.

“What a lovely cake,” Gemma remarks, taking another step out of the kitchen, towards Anne.

“I know. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it being accidentally spoilt for him.” She takes a glimpse at it, still sitting on the table. “I can’t wait to see his face.” And that meant she had to hide it until it was time. Anne picks it up and hands it to Gemma. “Hide this somewhere he won’t find it,” she begs her.

Obeying, Gemma takes it. But she doesn’t turn around right away.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t go upstairs at the moment.”

Anne’s eyebrows knitted across her forehead, puzzled.

“Why not?”

A single eyebrow rose and she smirked, attempting to be as discreet as possible in answering the question. She didn’t know how to word it explicitly. Having already been upstairs, she accidentally caught a glimpse because Harry forgot to close his door.

Anne realized that Harry had to be upstairs, leading her to understand what Gemma was trying to get across. She nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Turning around, Gemma returns to the kitchen to figure out where to hide Harry’s where he won’t find it. It was a task, especially considering there weren’t many options where he wouldn’t look.

Out of her peripheral vision, a young girl hid around the corner of the living room. Only half her body was revealed, while the other half hid around the corner. She pushed her long, ginger hair out of her face and behind her ear as she continued to stare at Anne with her one brown eye she wasn’t blind in.

As Anne turns to receive a better glimpse, the girl disappears. Bewildered, she continues to gape at the corner where the girl stood which is now absent of her presence. She continues to stand there for several more seconds, completely frozen. Even though she didn’t receive a full glimpse of her, Anne still partially recognized her enough.

“What are you staring at?”

Gemma’s voice breaks her out of the deep thoughts. Anne immediately spins toward her, shaking her head and giving a dismissive wave.

“It’s nothing.”

Gemma had a hard time believing her, because she knew it was definitely something, but she wasn’t going to argue over it. She understood it wasn’t worth it. However, she would be more tempted if Anne was afflicted. Gemma turns back around and re-enters the kitchen.

Feeling another pair of eyes on her, Anne whips around in her place. To her dismay, there was no person in sight. She’s not sure if she’s becoming cynical, however, months in this house it would make sense she already would be.

 

* *

 

Standing by the window in the living room with a lit cigarette between her two fingers, Tanya watches as Anne proceeds onto the lawn and up the path to the house as she carries a whimsical cake. She fishes for the keys out of her purse, then unlocks the door, opening it with her free hand.

Sighing, Tanya turns around as soon as Anne steps inside. She definitely didn’t expect Anne and her family to last this long in that house, and they outlasted the Mansfield’s. But it only caused her to be anxious, something was bound to happen eventually.

Charles steps into the room, he notices his mum appears a bit flustered, intriguing his curiosity.

“Is everything alright, mum?” he questions, taking slow steps toward her.

She nods immediately. “Yes, everything’s fine.” Her response was brusque and snappy. She turns back to the window and holds the cigarette up to her lips again, inhaling and then blowing another puff of smoke.

He’s not convinced. Whatever it was she chose not to be truthful about it and not tell him. But she seemed more annoyed now that he had asked, especially by how she responded.

Tanya had always wanted to hire a medium to walk through that house. She was curious what they would pick up - but obviously a lot of misfortunes, such as death and misery. Before her son could have a chance to leave the room, she turns to him with a stern face and removes the cigarette from between her lips again.

“You and George are forbidden to step on that property.” She wags a bony finger in his face as she steps toward him. “Especially with that psychopath on the loose.” She was determined to keep her sons away from the ill-fated premises.

He scoffs in disgust, tearing his eyes away from her frigid blue ones. “It’s a dump anyway.” Charles wasn’t so sure about his brother, however; always being mischievous he was often unpredictable. But Charles usually follows in George’s footsteps whenever Tanya’s presence is absent, so he’s no saint either. He begun to question who his mum was talking about as a psychopath. He was aware people died, but not who and of what causes. “But what ‘psychopath’ are you talking about?” he questions her.

“Seth Greenwald. In 1956, he attempted to murder his girlfriend, and then kill himself. She ended up killing him in self-defense and escaping.” She sighs, tearing her eyes away from his. “They say his spirit still lingers.”

“Don’t you say that about everyone who’s ever died in that house, though?” His eyebrows knit across his forehead, he crosses his arms over her chest.

“Does it matter?” she retorts, annoyance in her tone of voice.

Shrinking backward, he chooses not to say anything else.

An idea randomly struck her. Having not made much of an effort to get to know them and become friendlier, she thought of baking a casserole or another baked delight would be a decent start. Tanya jammed the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray. She leaves the room without a word, starting for the kitchen.

 

* *

 

Louis and Harry lie side by side, silently, trying to regulate their breathing again. Harry wasn’t so sure he could bring himself to get out of bed, the exhaustion kicking in. He gazes at Louis’ sweaty figure, he seeming tired himself.

“Like I said before, you are amazing.” Harry inhales a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He gazes up at the ceiling as he continues to regulate his shaky breathing again.

A smile quirks up on Louis’ face, his head turning toward Harry. Harry turns his head to see Louis’ translucent, crystal blue eyes staring into his infinite, green ones. Louis admired everything about Harry. He was beautiful, inside and out. There wasn’t a flaw about him he could point out. The entire world seemed to have paused; Harry’s presence, the only thing that mattered to him whenever they were alone together.

Realizing how quiet it was, Harry thought of playing music to liven the mood in the room. He didn’t realize how tranquil the scene was instead, and them both lying close together was enough.

“It’s too quiet,” Harry remarks, the silence in the room creating an uncomfortable ambiance. He brings himself to lean upward and push the duvet back. He stands up and saunters over toward his stereo, searching through his albums. Louis was fine without the music, in fact, he preferred the tame silence.

Harry sets the disc down and slides it into the stereo. He pushes the ‘play’ button and waits for the music to start playing.

Louis sits upward, waiting for Harry to play his music. The first several beats to the song begin. Harry spins around, he anticipated for Louis to ask him who the artist is, considering it was going to be somebody he’s never heard of before again.

“It’s The 1975,” Harry announces, before Louis could ask him. “They’re a new band. They came out with their first album last month.”

Louis nods. He continues to listen to the song.

“They’re not a bad band.” He pauses, the song continuing. “Maybe our music taste isn’t much different after all.”

“What music did you listen to?”

Louis shrugs. “It varied. But I can’t name any off the top of my head right now. But it was very different than the music today, that’s all I can say.”

The event earlier caused him to be well spent for the remainder of the day. Harry decides to sit down. His muscles were sore, and the physical exhaustion took a toll.

“It’s only midday and I’m already exhausted,” Harry remarks, crawling back onto the bed, situating his legs underneath the sheets again beside Louis.

“I can only imagine why.”

Harry crashes down against the pillow. He inhales a massive breath, exhaling slowly, his eyes resting on Louis’ smaller frame.

“I wish I could lie here all day with you,” Harry murmurs, his hand wrapping around Louis’ arm, pulling him downward. Complying, Louis lies down again and situates himself beside Harry.

“It’s your birthday, you can do whatever you wish,” Louis asserts, meeting his soft gaze.

Harry shrugs. His hair falls down onto his forehead. He immediately pushes it backward again, out of his eyes. He hears his phone vibrate on his end table, but he doesn’t bother to flip over and grab it to check who texted him. He assumed it was only one of his mates wishing him a ‘Happy Birthday’.

Rolling onto his back, Harry heaves a deep sigh, exhaling slowly.

“Don’t you wish that you could escape reality…” His voice trails off, but he pauses, thinking of how to continue his sentence. Before he could continue, Louis opens his mouth to speak:

“All the time,” Louis agrees, a bit sharply. He clears his throat, his voice coming off a bit gruff.

“We could travel the world together,” Harry continues, the idea sounding so brilliant, but the reality of it, impossible. He gazes up at the teal eyed lad, who turned to lean on his elbow as his eyes blazed upon Harry.

“Well, one can dream, right?” murmurs Louis, his tone spiritless. He didn’t seem much interested in the topic of conversation.

Particular lyrics caught Louis’ attention, causing him to direct his attention to and listen to the song which started playing.

“This song isn’t actually about chocolate is it…?”

Harry softly chuckles, in response to Louis’ observation. But he was definitely correct.

Hearing the door creak open, Harry’s head whips in the direction. He sits upward, only to see Dusty stroll in. Harry continues to watch the cat, curious where her next course of action would be. With this house full of spirits, it was always unpredictable how she would act.

Suddenly stopping in her tracks, Dusty fixates her eyes on Louis - emulating a typical cat that just stares into the air. This led Harry to question if she could even see Louis, but she had to, considering he was physically present in the room.

The sound of the doorbell captured both Harry and Louis’ attention. Though he didn’t want to leave the warmth of the bedsheets, his curiosity got the best of him. It wasn’t common that someone would visit out of the blue, which intrigued his curiosity. He pushes the duvet back, swinging his legs over onto the floor, sauntering over towards his clothes that lay around the floor from earlier.

“I will be right back,” Harry blithely announces, before turning around and leaving.

Louis gives him a look, scoffing and rolling his eyes. This obviously wasn’t what he expected Harry to do. But he wasn’t going to stop him.

“Look, we don’t get visitors often.” Harry knew he emitted an uncomfortable sentiment once he finished his sentence.

“Go.” Louis gives a wave of his hand, ushering Harry to do as he pleases. He doesn’t express any emotion. Harry turns around, leaving his room without turning back. Neither of them took being interrupted lightly, and he could see why Louis seemed bothered.

Stepping down onto the last several steps of the staircase, Harry pauses. Before proceeding, he takes a glimpse at the door to see it be opened by his mum, revealing Tanya holding a rectangular dish covered by tinfoil. He could only guess what it could be, but to start, it was definitely food.

“Well, hello,” Tanya enamors, blithely. “I know this may seem odd, considering it’s February now, but I figured we should get to know each other better.” She holds up the dish. “I made this casserole for your family.” She attempts a crooked smile.

Noticing Harry’s presence, Anne briefly glances at him as he stands on the bottom step, but shielded by the door. She invites Tanya inside. Harry knew it was oddly peculiar, he questioned why she waited this long.

Tanya sets the dish on the table by the door. Her facial expression changes, glowering, as she scans the hallway. It was the face Harry recognized from the day they met.

“Have you ever considered hiring a medium?” She turns to Anne, who doesn’t answer the question immediately. “Considering the ‘haunted house’ issue you have, I highly suggest it. In fact, I know of someone. I can contact her for you.”

“I’ll consider it.” Anne shrugs, taking another awkward glimpse at her son, who stood by the staircase. Harry doesn’t move. Instead, he only stands there. He’s not sure of how to act, if he would help the scene anyway.

“Oh,” Tanya shudders, tugging her long coat closer together. “It’s cold in here.” She expresses perplexion, noticing the temperature was warm and stable just a minute ago, and now it drastically changed. “Is there a draft?”

Anne shakes her head. “No.” She checks if she forgot to close the door, and it was closed. She was aware it would sound asinine if she mentioned the truth of where the sudden breeze arrived from.

Tanya takes a step backward towards the door.

“Well, I think it’s best that I go now. I hope you enjoy casserole tonight.” She adds an attempted smile as she stepped towards the door.

Harry’s not sure the situation could become any more awkward, and he’s betting his mum feels the same. She lets Tanya leave, then closes the door.

“I did not sign up to have weird neighbors as well when we moved into this house,” Anne murmurs, picking up the dish and strolling into the kitchen.

“Likewise,” Harry mutters, almost inaudibly as he follows her. He was hoping for a winsome family dinner tonight at a lovely restaurant because his mates had cancelled last minute on heading out to get drinks and go clubbing, but he understood that had less of a chance of happening now. Anne would be reluctant to allow a chance for the casserole to begin to turn stale if forgotten about.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Anne apologizes, as she sets the casserole in the fridge and shuts it. She observes how he doesn’t express any reaction, not seeming much bothered.

He shrugs, waving it off. “No, I don’t mind.” Truthfully, he didn’t mind. It didn’t matter as much to him. He wondered why his mum closed the door to the fridge so instantly as soon as he entered the kitchen, but he doesn’t question her.

Feeling like a stranger to his mum all day, he chooses not to return upstairs immediately. He also thought she would probably appreciate it if he hung downstairs for a little while more.

“Well, it's nice to see your face for more than a few seconds,” Anne comments, regarding his presence upstairs for half the day.

“I'm sorry.” It was an apology Harry believed to be the appropriate response. He wraps his arms around her, in a tight embrace. She's taken off-guard at first, but reciprocates. “I’ve been a bit distant today.”

She breaks her arms away first, then he follows. She lightly chuckles, grabbing Harry’s attention. His eyebrows frown across his forehead, confused.

“What?”

“It’s insane how just several months ago, we scoffed at the concept of ghosts. But look where we are now.” She tries to hide her face as she chuckles. It was easy to say they all had grown accustomed. However, Harry’s unsure if his mum is just acting hysterical from the absurdity of it.

Harry considered his mum’s assertion. Maybe she was right, but he understood the reality of it that they had only grown accustomed to the spirits who have shown their faces frequently. There were definitely others, but he has rarely seen them.

Any other person who would visit would view Harry and his family as mad - the existence of spirits of the dead is such a controversial topic which is extremely difficult to prove or disprove. But Harry couldn’t care less, he knew the truth and that is all what mattered to him.

“In this world, there are endless possibilities to the unknown, you just have to open your mind to them.” Harry expected the wording to be better, but he chose not to repeat himself, for the sake of screwing himself further. He hoped his mum understood what he meant.

“I suppose you’re right.” Anne shrugs. “Nothing is rarely as it seems. You do have to be careful.” She sounded more assertive than she expected, but regardless, she understood she’s not wrong.

Hearing footsteps approach the kitchen, Harry spins around toward the entrance. Gemma enters the room, seeming curious about their conversation that she partly overheard.

“What’s this about ‘being careful’?” She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes flicking from Harry to their mum.

Harry shakes his head, shrugging. “Oh, it’s nothing. We were talking about how much more open-minded we all are to the existence of spectral entities now.”

“Ah.” Gemma nods, but she doesn’t contribute to the conversation. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she would never be truly one-hundred percent comfortable in this house. The goosebumps on her skin spoke for itself.

 

*

 

Stepping out of his room, Harry starts for the staircase. He had been called downstairs by Gemma, and he was aware of the possibility of the reason.

“Didn’t you say you had plans with your mates tonight?” He heard Louis’ question as he follows behind him.

“They cancelled last minute.” Harry’s response was more lethargic, as he was disappointed. He had looked forward to it. Though he hasn’t spoken much to them, he began to question why. It wasn’t what Harry’s adjusted to - them being more distant. He had also occasionally made efforts for plans just to get out of the house, but they weren’t as responsive.

“I could make it up to you?” Louis offered, since Harry’s mates bailed out on him and he felt bad about it.

Harry shook his head as he proceeded down the staircase.

“You don’t have to. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Harry steps into the kitchen to find his mum waiting for him. She motions for him to sit down at the table. Gemma re-enters the room. She wraps her arms around Harry’s neck from behind as he sits in the chair.

“You’re in for a surprise,” she mutters, with a smile on her face, then unwrapping her arms and fixing her posture. She walks over toward the fridge to help Anne as she opens the door. Harry could only anticipate as he waited.

“Oh my God.” Anne’s jaw dropped to the floor, completely stunned by what lay before her as she opened the refrigerator. The cake, mutilated, and appearing as most of it had been eaten. Gemma immediately steps around to receive a glimpse.

“Who could have done such a thing?” Were the only words Gemma could utter as she gaped at the destroyed cake. She turns her gaze up to Anne, who is horrified.

“I wish I knew,” Anne responds, shaking her head. She reaches in to grab the cake and take it out of the fridge. Having the least slightest clue who touched it, she’s not so sure the rest of it should be eaten.

Alarmed and curious, Harry stands up. He steps toward his mum and Gemma. Scowling, Anne takes the cake out, setting it on the island. Her apologetic and sad eyes flick up to Harry’s. Gemma shuts the fridge and turns around.

“It wasn’t me.”

Harry spins around to see Louis behind him, his arms up, surrendering. Harry responds with a look of indignation, already aware he had nothing to do with it. He knew Louis too well to commit such an abhorrent act. There were a number of possibilities Harry could narrow down, but he couldn’t do it at this very moment.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Anne apologizes, the frown not leaving her face. “I don’t understand who would have done this?” She and Gemma were both disgusted, it was nothing either of them expected to occur. Regardless, Anne felt horrible, and she wished there could have been something done to prevent this from happening.

“I can’t imagine how much you spent on that cake,” Gemma scoffs, shaking her head. She sighs. Anne doesn’t say anything, though she indicates to her daughter that Harry’s birthday cake wasn’t cheap.

Although Harry was disappointed, he’s not surprised. He’s not sure of what to exactly say. He turns back to Louis again, to see he’s just as disappointed. There’s a scowl across his face.

“There must be someone who doesn’t like you,” Louis huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “And telling them to ‘go away’ won’t solve your problem.” Telling an apparition to ‘go away’ only prevents them from interacting with Harry and his family, it doesn’t stop the ghosts from committing other peeving behaviors meant to inflict emotional reactions upon them.

There were often times Harry became so fed up with the spirits, but he wouldn’t express it around Louis, afraid to offend him. But he had no intention to do so, and only meant those who are troublesome. He was sure Louis could tell he was just as ticked at the moment. But he was aware his mum had to be the most upset and aggravated, and she had every right to be, considering all the money she spent has turned to waste.

“Well, happy birthday to me,” Harry murmurs, spiritless. He begins to turn to leave the kitchen. He comes to a halt before leaving, turning back to Anne. “Thanks anyway, mum. I appreciate your effort.” Harry’s tone remains dull and lifeless.

Anne had always been determined to make the best of her kids birthdays each year, and she is just as dejected as he. He leaves the room, returning upstairs. Louis undoubtedly follows him.

“Harry,” he calls after him, as Harry marches up the staircase. Harry doesn’t acknowledge Louis. He proceeds to climb the staircase. Persistent, he continues to follow Harry all the way to his room. “I’m sorry for what happened, but don’t take your anger out on me.” It was just a cake, anyway, becoming as infuriated isn’t worth it.

“Who said I’m angry?” Harry spins around on the heels of his feet, gazing at Louis.

“Well, you seemed like you were…” Louis’ voice trails off.

“Unhappy, but not angry.” Harry corrected him. He pulls his shirt over his head to start to change into pajamas. He takes off his jeans, tossing them into the laundry bin then sauntering over towards the closet.

“I wish there could be something done to get rid of some of the spirits, but I would assume it would be impossible to get rid of one without getting rid of us all.” Louis sits down on Harry’s bed, his eyes cast down to the floor, heaving a sigh. Harry turned around, grabbing long pants out of his closet and a t-shirt. A question struck him in response to Louis’ assumption.

“Isn’t that what you would want, though? To be set free from this house and move on?”

Louis shrugs, lifting his eyes up to meet Harry’s. “Right now, it doesn’t really matter to me. But who knows if there’s even an afterlife and there is such a thing to ‘move on’ to it.”

Once dressed, Harry strolls into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up for bed.

Spitting the toothpaste into the sink and rinsing his mouth out, Harry leans back upward. A figure appears in the mirror, but before he could actually receive a full glimpse, they disappear. His heart skips a beat. Although the figure was barely recognizable, he picked up some familiar features, identifying him as the man who had been an accomplice with the woman. A shiver rattles Harry’s spine, creating goosebumps all over his skin.

He doesn’t hesitate to quickly step out of the bathroom. He was afraid of staying in there much longer, remembering the event with the woman not even two months ago, and fearing the possibility of it repeating.

“You look like you have seen something.” Louis observes how Harry emerges from the bathroom rather startled. The correct wording is about seeing a ghost, but Louis couldn’t say that because it would be too ironic.

Harry brushes it off, choosing not to make a big deal.

“It was nothing.” He gives a wave of his hand, stepping towards his bed and pushing the duvet back.

Louis only responds with a look of skepticism, not trusting Harry. Something must have happened, but Harry’s choosing not to be honest. Louis is the only person Harry can talk to about the struggles with the house. Anne nor Gemma were usually comfortable with discussing the topic.

“I don’t believe you.” Louis crosses his arms over his chest, staring at Harry as he situates his legs underneath the duvet.

“It was nothing, I promise.” Although Harry attempted to plead to him, Louis still won’t buy it. “Now, could you lie with me.” There's a cheeky smile on his face as he beckons to the empty space beside him.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, Harry.” Louis wasn’t always too worried about Harry, but when issues like this appeared, he couldn’t help but worry a little. He doesn’t obey Harry’s wish. Instead, he stands up. 

“Where are you going?” Harry questions him abruptly, bewilderment crossing his face. 

“It’s none of your concern.” He takes a step backward, starting for the door. “If you need me you know where to find me.”

Before Harry could shake his head and object, Louis vanishes through the doorway. He actually didn’t know where to find him, since he could be anywhere in the house. Harry chooses not to chase after him, it’s not worth it. His eyelids shut over his eyes, clearing his mind and allowing himself to fall into a deep slumber.

 

*

 

Louis steps into the frigid, darkened basement. He slowly and silently closes the door behind him, then proceeding down the steep, cement staircase. He starts over toward the wall on the opposite side of the room, wanting to check if anybody had touched those photographs since he had last seen them.

Unexpectedly, a figure appears behind him, causing him to immediately stop in his tracks. Before he could spin around or react, an arm reaches around his shoulder, deliberately drawing a sharp steak knife across his throat. There’s a snicker heard from behind him.

Gasping and full of consternation, Louis collapses to the ground. His vision starts to blur, feeling himself become unconscious. Regardless of being a ghost, they would experience the same behavior a human would feel in the same situation. He felt so powerless, as he could only lie there, and the sensation was especially foreign to him, having no memory of the similar event of how he died.

“An eye for an eye,” a male voice sneers as he looms over Louis who’s on the ground. The blurriness of Louis’ vision prevented him from deciphering who the male is, he could only point out simple features. “This is going to be fun.” He hears the man snicker with a gruff, yet familiar voice.

“Louis!” He hears young, detectable female voices shout his name with concern. Unable to move, he can only lie there as he fully falls unconscious, the blurry figures approaching and looming overhead, replacing the man.

 

*

 

It seemed like an off-day. Harry persistently searched for Louis, but with each dismaying end result, the lad wasn’t anywhere to be found. It struck Harry odd, considering Louis’ sudden disappearance for this long was unprecedented. But Harry knows he shouldn’t be too dependent on the apparition, and he should make an effort to get out of the house more often and try to interact with actual human beings.

He decided to do one last search, and then head out for the day. He starts at square one again, the main hallway.

“Louis?” Harry utters, trying to project his voice. He takes a step forward, towards the living room. He starts to wonder what Louis meant by saying “you know where to find me”, because he searched throughout the house and has been unsuccessful. “If you’re around, please let me know. I’m not sure if you’re trying to fuck with me, or are simply avoiding me.” Harry’s indecisive about continuing, questioning if there’s a point.

He hears footsteps approach from behind him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat and goosebumps to rise on his skin. He slowly turns around, heavily anticipating the reveal.

Louis stands several feet away from him, solidly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his red Adidas jacket. He had an unusual demeanor, taking Harry off-guard. His lips formed a straight line, unmoving. Harry waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t, causing him to take the initiative.

“I have been searching for you throughout the house.” Harry doesn’t move, instead his feet stay planted on the floor.

“Maybe you weren’t looking in the right places,” Louis says, with a snicker. A smug look formed across his face. He turns around, starting in the direction of the kitchen.

Responding with a side-eye, Harry follows him. The atmosphere surrounding them was different, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. But Louis’ demeanor caused the skepticism first.

“Are you alright, Lou?” Harry gaped at him as he entered the kitchen behind him. Louis spins around on the balls of his feet as soon as the question rolled off Harry’s tongue.

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know - your demeanor tells me otherwise.” There was definitely something off about the lad, but he chose not to be honest about it. Harry couldn’t figure out why, Louis had no reason to lie to him.

“Harry.” Louis steps toward him, interlocking their hands together, fixing his crystal blue eyes onto Harry’s green ones. “I’m okay.”

Harry’s not fully convinced, but before he could say anything, he hears the front door unlocking and opening. He directs his attention towards the hallway. The door closes, and soon enough Gemma emerged through the entrance of the kitchen.

Harry noticed the absence in his hands, where Louis’ once were. He had managed to vanish rather instantaneously. It was a behavior that Harry questioned, and why he still continued it. But then again, Harry continued to speculate the strange demeanor Louis possessed, regardless of how he tried to convince him there was no such thing.

“Hey, Harry,” she says to him, her tone chipper. She saunters over toward the cupboard to grab a glass to grab something to drink.

“Hi.” He responds with a small wave. He was still bothered over the interaction with Louis, though, he tried not to express it.

“Why don’t you go out more often?” she questions him, opening the cupboard. “I can’t understand why you would want to stay in this house almost everyday.” She noticed he had little ambition to leave the house and do something else productive. It wasn’t like him, and he had definitely changed a little since they moved in.

Harry shrugs, unable to find a valid answer to her question. He considered that she was correct. Now that he thought about it, it didn’t make much sense why he chooses to stay home so frequently. The day was still young, and he still had a chance to prove her wrong.

“It’s not too late to go out for lunch, is it?” he asks her, an idea springing to his mind. She stops in her tracks before she reaches the fridge.

“No, it’s not.” She understood where Harry was going with this. She sets the glass down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go.” His tone was more animated than he expected. He motioned towards the hallway, to the front door. Knowing his sister, she would speculate his sudden, drastic change in attitude - from dismal to perky.

Gemma raised an eyebrow at her brother, intrigued by his sudden motivation for ambition. She set the glass back into the cupboard, then following him.

 

*

 

Louis watches Gemma step out and close the door behind her. The house was now empty, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop. He turns around, strolling into the living room. He plops down on the sofa, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table.

Before he could grab it, it was snatched out of his reach. His eyes immediately snap upward to see Félicité, sitting across the sofa, holding the remote. He regards her with confusion.

“Why are you acting strange?” she asks him. “Especially towards Harry. I understand you’re still bothered about what happened last night, but you will have to tell him eventually.”

He scowls. “He doesn’t need to know. It’s better off he doesn’t.” He pauses for a short second. “I’m afraid of what his reaction would be.” He turns his gaze down to the sofa, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

She sighs. “How do you think you’re protecting him? We all live under the same roof. It’s obvious that lady and her partner will stop at nothing to make you and Harry’s lives miserable.”

Louis thinks about her statement. If only he hadn’t of killed them, but there was no telling if Harry would still be alive if he didn’t. Calling the police wouldn’t have been much help either, considering they could have shot Harry before they arrived. Louis knows he can’t keep acting distant around him, because Harry isn’t believing his efforts attempting to convince him there’s nothing wrong.

“I suppose you’re right.” He lifts his gaze up to meet hers. “But I would hate to cause him more anxiety. I know how he feels about this house.”

“He will realize eventually that you’re lying to him. You might as well be honest now than piss him off later when he realizes.” She hands the remote back to him, now that it seemed like the conversation was over. She observes how he continues to sit there, likely considering her brutally honest advice.

Hearing footsteps from the hallway, he cranes his neck to see Daisy peering around the corner, slowly revealing herself once Louis laid his eyes on her. She steps into the living room.

“What are you both talking about?” she asks, curious. She sits down in the recliner, sitting sideways so her legs hung over the arm.

“Just a small conflict between me and Harry,” he responds, choosing not to go until detail. He didn’t know if she would understand anyway.

“About what?” Daisy attempts to continue the conversation, plus, she was genuinely curious. She observed how Louis was hesitant to respond to her second question. She couldn’t fathom why.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Daisy responds with a dissatisfied look. She may only be twelve, but theoretically she’d be thirty years older today. She definitely wasn’t up for any ageist crap.

“I think you should tell her,” Félicité suggests. “It’s not that big of a deal, anyway.”

He rolls his eyes. “Alright.” He takes in a deep breath to soothe his nerves, slowly exhaling, before starting.

There’s a sudden loud clamor from the kitchen, heard by the three of them. It immediately breaks Louis out of his train of thought, startling him, and definitely Daisy and Félicité as well.

“What the hell was that?” Félicité asks, gaping at her younger sister, then turning to her brother. “Nobody is home, right?”

Louis nods. “Yeah. I saw Harry and Gemma leave.” They all sit there, bewildered, but afraid to see what caused it. Deciding to check it out, he stands up. “Stay here,” he demands the two of them, and hoping they obey his wish.

He slowly takes several steps out of the living room, turning around the corner in the direction of the kitchen. He grew more anxious every step he took, greatly anticipating.

Louis comes to a halt as he reaches the entrance to the kitchen. His breath freezes in his lungs, the air around him turning chilly as his eyes laid upon the floor. Goosebumps rose everywhere on his skin.

All the knives were scattered, each pointing in different directions. Every cabinet and drawer were open. His feet were glued to the floor, unable to move. He didn’t know what to make of the scene, only concluding that it’s not symbolizing anything good.

 

*

 

Harry and Gemma both sat at a table in a cafe. They both had ordered and were waiting for their food to arrive. He takes a sip of his lemon water, and breaking out in a giggle as his lips disconnect from the straw.

“What is it?” Gemma watches as he tries to control himself. Calming down, he answers her question.

“I feel like, once I step out of that house, I’m not crazy anymore.”

“Why do you say that?” she asks him. His wording was definitely odd to her.

“I mean, if we told anyone about that house, they would scoff at us. At first, it sounded so insane to believe it’s all so real.” He regarded her awkwardly, but she totally understood where he was coming from.

“I suppose you’re right.” Gemma shrugs. “But at this point in time, I don’t think I would want to move.”

Considering the experience in November, Harry was surprised by her comment. He always assumed she was still uncomfortable, but he was proven wrong. He could only question why she made the peculiar statement. His eyebrows knitted across his forehead, but before he could ask, she continues.

“I think we overreacted a few months ago. Nothing detrimental has come about since. All the ‘paranormal activity’ has stopped.”

Harry tries not to react. He, however, has had a different experience the past month, but he chose not to tell her. He figured it was better off she didn’t know, anyway. A specific question strikes him. He doesn’t put much thought into it before it rolled off his tongue.

“Do you think our lives are normal?” He absentmindedly stirs the straw around in the glass, processing an answer to his own question.

Gemma shrugs. She could only assume why he asked the odd question, considering she being indecisive about the topic. However, their benevolent interaction with the spirits in the house sure wouldn’t be considered mundane.

“What do you think?” It’s the only response she could conjure. She takes a sip of her drink.

Harry softly chuckles. “Well, I don’t find anything normal about falling head over heels with an apparitional being. That’s why I mentioned how less crazy I feel once I leave that house. It’s like that house is getting inside my head, skewing my perception of reality.” His eyes drop down to the table, pausing, drawing in a big breath, and expelling it. “Any sane person would recommend me to therapy.”

“We should all go on a holiday somewhere,” she suggests. “You, me, and mum. You need a break, Harry. Fucking Louis all the time won’t help you. In fact, I think that’s contributing to your current mental health state.” She lowered her voice to avoid looks from anyone, as she was swearing while kids were around.

Harry considered her suggestion. He wanted his sister to be honest, especially if it would help him in any way. Maybe they did need a holiday, somewhere far, where he could clear his mind and relax. But he feared the idea would be unrealistic, given that a lot of their money has been sucked up by the house.

 

*

 

Anne steps through the doorway, quickly shutting the door behind her as the frigid wind blows in. She shrugs off her jacket, hanging it over her arm as she proceeds into the kitchen.

She detected a deviant atmosphere as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. It sent a chill down her spine. Nothing about the house was ordinary, but this time the ambiance she started to receive was much different. She couldn’t place a finger on it, however.

There was nothing out of place in the kitchen. The floor was clean, and so where the counters. Completely spotless, just how she remembered the room when she left just several hours ago.

There’s a sound of feet scampering across the hallway behind her, following giggles of young children. Anne whips around on her feet, but to her dismay, there’s no one in sight. She gapes at the scene, puzzled.

She takes slow, careful steps toward the living room. Her heart started beating rapidly, pounding against her chest like a drum. Goosebumps prickled all over her skin, anticipating for every step she took.

She rounds the corner to a dismaying sight. There was nobody, as if the children dissipated into the air. Though it was typical for her, she’s not adjusted to it still.

The sound of the front door unlocking and opening caught her attention, almost causing her heart to stop beating as it startled her. Anne spins around to see Gemma and Harry step inside, and relief flows through her.

“Are you alright, mum?” Gemma asks, noticing her consternated disposition.

Anne nods, then adding a smile. “Yes, yes I am.” She regarded the occurrence as nothing, choosing not to let it bother her. She remembered how some of the spirits enjoyed fooling around. “So where were you two?” She observed how Harry rarely leaves the house, which led her to ask the question.

“We went out to lunch,” Harry responds casually, before his sister could. He takes off his jacket, feeling himself warm up.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Anne comments warmly, glad to see they are still close siblings. Over the past several months, their appeared to be an animosity between them, mostly over the ordeal with the house. They didn’t communicate much, partly considering Harry had clung to Louis and they were together frequently.

Excusing himself from his family, Harry starts up the staircase. He begins to experience the not-so foreign feeling as he approaches his bedroom. It was the ambiance he always associated with the house screwing with his head, but he didn’t fully take notice of it until now. He proceeds down the hallway, not stopping.

He steps into his room, shrugging off his jacket. He hangs it up on the hook on the wall. He turns around to find his phone which he tossed onto his bed, missing. Harry sighs, knowing exactly who took it. He remembers Louis admitting he didn’t find much interest in smartphones, so it made him curious why he would steal it.

He sits at the edge of his bed, waiting for the lad to appear. He had no reason to hide, considering Harry was now aware of his presence.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Louis sits at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands.

“Here you go.” Louis hands the device back to Harry, a smile across his face. Harry warily takes it, wondering what Louis had done with it while he had it. His eyes drop down to the screen, unlocking his phone to take a brief look.

He opens his camera roll, only to see a dozen photos Louis took of himself. Surprisingly, they weren’t bad, for someone who’s never taken a selfie before.

“I never knew you were so good at taking selfies,” Harry remarks, his eyes snapping upward to him.

“Taking what?” Louis regards him with confusion, having never heard the word before. Before Harry could respond, he pieces the puzzle together in his head, realizing Harry was looking at his camera roll and all the photographs he snapped of himself. “Nevermind.”

Harry remembers his peculiar behavior earlier, only prompting him to ask. It bothered him too much to brush off.

“Why were you acting strange earlier?” He sits down beside Louis at the edge of the bed.

Louis diverts his gaze away from Harry. He understood he would have to answer that question soon enough. He takes in a deep breath, then directing his gaze back to Harry, with a sense of uneasiness.

“Harry,” he begins, “We need to talk.” His facial expression remains serious and unmoving. He attempts to figure out how to begin, and use the correct wording.

Harry could only respond with a look of bewilderment, unsure of where this is going, which only caused him to grow anxious. He beckoned for Louis to continue. A grim ambiance began to settle around them.

“Last night, I was attacked.”

Harry’s jaw drops to the floor. “By who?” Is all he could utter. He could feel his skin prickle with goosebumps. He shuddered.

Louis shakes his head. “I didn’t see them. But I have two suspects: It was either Seth, or that man who tried to kill you.” The room falls deathly silent. Harry doesn’t know what to say, he’s rendered speechless. He knew it had to be the man, only because he and the woman have been tormenting Harry, and now they’ve moved onto Louis. He doesn’t bother asking about the details, considering there’s a high possibility it was harsh and quite possibly horrendous as well.

“I guess there’s nothing we can do?” Harry felt terrified, and it only increased. What he began to worry about is his mum or Gemma possibly being pulled into it. He had still managed to keep it a secret that there’s two dead bodies buried in their backyard. He feared them finding out, and he definitely didn’t want to be sent to prison for murder he didn’t commit. Harry tried not to be aggravated with Louis, but he had no idea if he would even be alive if Louis never picked up that gun and made the highly controversial decision.

Louis shakes his head. “If only. You can tell us to ‘go away’, but we can still find ways to interfere, just not personally.” He pulled in a shaky breath, meeting Harry’s gaze with doleful eyes.

Harry was aware he would become more paranoid, which would not be positive for his mental health at all. Maybe he and his family did need a holiday. He was determined to remember to mention it during dinner tonight.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Harry sighs, shaking his head, exasperated. Until today, he didn’t realize how the house was turning him crazy over the past several months. His eyes fall to the floor as he continued to breathe steady breaths.

Louis gapes at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” He could only assume, jumping to conclusions, because Harry’s words were ambiguous to a meaning.

“I’m going mad, and it’s this house. It’s everything about it.” Harry still doesn’t make eye contact with Louis, his eyes remaining attached to the floor. “I’m afraid I’ll become a psychopath like your step-dad.” He eventually lifts his eyes upward to meet Louis’. Harry didn’t intend it in a joking manner, at all.

“Harry,” Louis softly utters, locking his gaze on to his. “I won’t let that happen.” He slides closer to Harry, now several inches apart. He interlocks his hand with Harry’s. He’s aware it sounds selfish, but Louis couldn’t bear losing Harry at the moment. Though, he made a promise several months ago he wouldn’t become too attached.

“It’s not just that, though,” Harry continues, his tone of voice stagnant and dreary. “I spend so much time at home, surrounded by all these apparitions, that it’s become much more of a challenge to distinguish between reality.” He observes how Louis cocks his head, not fully understanding. “What’s real, and what’s not,” Harry clarifies.

A frown is placed across Louis’ face, in reaction to Harry’s final sentence. Harry purposely avoids his gaze, familiar with the agitated countenance.

Louis scoffs. His hand tightens around Harry’s. He leans toward Harry, cocking his head, pressing their lips together. He doesn’t disconnect immediately, choosing to appreciate the moment a while longer. His left hand brushes up against Harry’s jawline, holding it in place.

“Is that real enough for you?” Louis stares dead straight into Harry’s eyes with a smug grin, slowly leaning backward to his original position.

Harry shrugs, choosing not to give a clear answer. Of course it was, but it wasn’t the point he was trying to make. He removes his hand from Louis’ grasp, feeling the circulation start to be cut off from how tight they were held together. 

 

* 

 

Harry, Gemma, and Anne all sat at the table. Harry stabbed his meatloaf with his fork, slowly lifting it upward. He starts to remember the interaction with Louis earlier, and how it didn’t end well. He did feel bad, especially since it seemed like he grouped Louis in with the whole problem about the house, and it irked him when Harry unintentionally did so. Harry recalls the mention about the holiday earlier, prompting him to bring it up now.

“Earlier today, Gemma and I were talking about us all taking a holiday, and I wanted to mention it to you.” He sets his fork down on the plate. He had been eager to ask the question.

Anne shrugs. She admired the idea, but she realized the chances of being able to afford it were slim. Almost all the money they have is currently tied up in the house.

“I wish,” she murmurs, grabbing her glass and picking it up. “But I don’t know if we could afford it, depending on where.” She regards both her kids with solemn eyes. “As I have aforementioned, so much of our money is tied into this house. If you two want to plan a trip, it has to be cheap.”

And that’s the issue. It’s almost impossible to take a trip anywhere in the world and intending it to be cheap. Harry’s eyes drop down to the table. He knew he shouldn’t have become too zealous. But he knew his mum was trying her best, and there is only so much she can do. Mentioning a holiday in February was quite random to her, but she could only guess it had to do with the house. Harry seemed antsy to leave, even if it would only be for a week.

 

Later that night, Harry re-enters his room. He felt a little dejected, knowing he and Gemma’s plan had been tossed. It was a great idea, but he wasn’t going to argue with his mum. She had no control over the fact the house swallowed a majority of the money they have. The rest of it obviously is needed for simple necessities, such as food and other needs.

Before Harry changes into his sleepwear, he recalls that he hasn’t seen Louis’ face since earlier today. He became concerned that what he accidentally said drove a wedge between them. He didn’t mean to generalize Louis and his family with the other apparitions, and he wished he could have worded it a lot better. Harry’s not sure if there is even a point to search for him, and he doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

Another torpid month passes. “Normal” is not the word to describe the circumstances the past 30 plus days. Some would declare one mad for insisting on the existence of spirits of the dead and paranormal activity, while others may believe them. It can be a controversial topic. It could be a plausible explanation what drove Harry and his mates apart, and why he, himself believes he’s going more insane each and every day he stays in the house, although his efforts to leave once in awhile have helped him.

The relationship between Harry and Louis had eased a bit, however, there was still a little animosity displayed by Louis. Regardless of the time that has passed, Harry still felt terrible.

The family sits in the living room, along with Robin and his two kids. Harry was happy for his mum, that she had found someone. Although he was worried at first, Robin turned out to be a pretty good guy, perfect for his mum. She was genuinely happy, and both Harry and Gemma were jovial.

Holding a calescent mug of tea in his hand, Harry holds it up to his mouth, taking a sip. It had been a frigid day, cold enough to leave several inches of snow. The hot liquid warmed his body. Realizing that he had reached the bottom of the mug, he decides to refill it. He didn’t pour a lot to begin with. Harry excuses himself, strolling into the kitchen.

He steps toward the stove. Since the teapot had been sitting, the tea would be cold. He turns on the stove again to warm it up, waiting.

“I appreciate that you have been ignoring me almost all day.”

The goosebumps on Harry’s skin prickle. The hairs on the back of his neck rise. He spins around to see Louis standing several feet away from him, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl across his face. Harry was familiar with his sarcasm.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” Harry retorts. “Robin is here. It’s difficult for me to communicate with you when we invite people over. I also don’t want to look delirious if I’m caught speaking to you.” Harry observed how the facial expression on Louis’ face didn’t change.

“We can communicate now, since you’re alone.”

Harry nods. “Yes, we can. But not for long.” He was afraid someone would hear him talking and wonder who he could be speaking to. “Would you like a cuppa?” he offers to Louis, indicating to the teapot. There is still a lot left in the pot.

“Sure.” Louis grabs a mug out of the cupboard, setting it down besides Harry’s. Harry knew him too well, as he almost never turned down an offer.

Once the pot began to whistle, he turns off the stove. He picks the pot up, pouring into his mug, then Louis’.

“The milk is in the fridge,” Harry tells him, remembering he prefers milk in his tea. Louis opens the fridge, grabbing the milk. Once he fixes his tea, he prepares to start back toward the living room. “I promise you’ll receive my undivided attention once they leave.”

Louis softly chuckles, holding the mug up to his lips. There are footsteps heard approaching the kitchen. Harry’s head turns to see Allison, Robin’s daughter, enter. She heard Harry’s voice, and was curious who he had been talking to. He doesn’t bother to turn back to where Louis stood, knowing he’s gone.

“Who were you talking to?” she asks him, standing on the threshold.

Harry swiftly shakes his head. “Nobody.” He sets the mug down on the island, as it had started to burn his hand.

“Really? Because I heard your voice.” She crosses her arms over her chest, not believing him. She knows she isn’t hallucinating, which is why she is so determined.

“Nope. You’re mistaken.” This is exactly what Harry feared, and he hoped it would be simple to convince her. Although he hasn’t known her for that long, he’s known her long enough to be aware of what her personality is like.

Louis appears behind her, smirking, startling Harry. He could only guess where this is going, since a similar event occurred before. He couldn’t help but gape at him as he complacently stood behind her. Harry knew he was obviously bored, but it wasn’t an excuse to taunt the people around Harry.

“What are you staring at?” she demands, noticing his odd stare to straight behind her. She whips around, but Louis vanishes. Harry wasn’t convinced, as he didn’t let his guard down. Knowing Louis, he could be unpredictable. Allison turns back around, puzzled. Choosing to drop the conversation, she ushers Harry back into the living room. Everyone could be wondering what’s taking him so long.

As Harry appeared in the living room, he noticed Allison was missing. He had followed her directly from the kitchen. Well, almost. He won’t worry too much, as he considered she went to use the loo. He sets his mug down on the coffee table, then sitting down on the sofa beside his sister.

There’s a sudden scream of terror, startling everybody in the living room. It could only be from one particular person. It doesn’t take a second for Chris, Robin’s son, to dart in the direction of where the sound emitted.

Allison emerges from the loo, with a tear stained, stricken face. She races into her brother’s arms, crying into his shoulder.

Anne and Robin both emerge from the living room, concerned. They both could hear the sobs emitting from Allison as she remained in her brother’s arms.

“What on Earth happened?” Robin was the first to ask any questions, as he gaped at his weeping daughter. It took some time for her to finally let go of her brother and attempt to stop crying to speak coherently.

“T-There was this apparition…” she stuttered, “who appeared and tried to harm me. And before any of you say anything, I’m not fucking hallucinating. I saw it.”

Anne reacts, horrified. But she doesn’t know what to say. It’s possible she could be the only person actually believing her.

Harry stands on the threshold of the living room, leaning against the wall. He listens to the conversation. He frowns as she’s discredited, but he expected it. He questioned why his mum wouldn’t speak up, but he assumed she had to be afraid to.

“I’m never coming back here!” Allison shouts vehemently, her voice still strained from all the crying. She marches toward the door, grabbing her jacket then throwing the door open and stepping outside.

Harry turns back to Gemma, to see her eyes wide in shock. He turns back to see Anne apologize to Robin as he approaches the door to leave with Chris. Harry sighs, sitting back down on the sofa and shaking his head. He did feel bad for his mum, though, since the day had been ruined now due to the unfortunate event.

Anne closes the door as Robin and Chris leave. She sighs, dejected. She re-enters the living room to clean up all the empty mugs and take them into the kitchen. Being the positive person she always tries to be, this time, there wasn’t a smile on her face as she glanced at Harry and Gemma. It felt like a punch to the stomach to him, even though it wasn’t his fault. He hated to see his mum so disappointed.

“Well, I’m going to take a bath,” Gemma announces, standing up. “Hopefully I can relax and clear all the stress from today’s events.” It is worth knowing that the bathroom incident wasn’t the only thing that happened today. Neither of them knew if anything worse could happen.

 

*

 

Gemma steps out of the tub. She grabs a towel off the rack, wrapping it around her body. Without thinking, she glances upward at the mirror, to see words traced on the water vapor that covered the whole mirror:

_Watch where you step, babe_

She gaped at the mirror, confusion plastering itself across her face. She only grew anxious, questioning what it could mean. She could only deduct it didn’t mean anything good, which caused her anxiety to rise.

Gemma carefully steps toward the door to head back to her bedroom to get dressed. She doesn’t let her guard down as her feet moved delicately across the tiled floor. She attempted to keep her breathing slow and steady, feeling her heart start to hammer against her chest. Though, it was already difficult to breathe because the air was still steamy.

 

*

 

Lying down on the sofa, Louis is mounted over Harry, their lips moving in sync. The torrid scene only amplified, become more intense each minute that passed by. Louis maneuvers downward towards Harry’s neckline, leaving sporadic kisses all over his soft, delicate skin.

Harry began to breathe more heavily as the room became more hotter around him. He tries to suppress several throaty moans as Louis grinds back and forth above him. He was afraid of creating too much noise, to prevent anyone in particular from hearing them, especially since they’re in the living room.

There’s a sudden, bloodcurdling scream, which emits from upstairs. It startles both Louis and Harry, the scream chilling them to the bone. They both gape at each other, alarmed. Harry recognized it as his sister, causing him to usher Louis off. Though they were both annoyed to be interrupted, Gemma was way more important to Harry.

Both of them race up the staircase. Anne followed behind them. Harry’s heart hammered against his chest, he didn’t know if it could beat any faster, judging by how terrified he is.

Gemma is pinned down on her bed, a man with sandy hair is mounted above her. He’s stripped down to his underpants. A bath towel and her panties are on the floor by the bed.

“Get off me you bastard!” she shrieks, trying to fight his strength. His strength is almost impossible for her to match.

“Why would I? We’re just getting started,” Seth sneers, grabbing the waistband of his underpants to pull them down. He pins her arm backward with his free hand. “You’re so beautiful,” he holds a smug smile, his other hand brushing her hair out of her face.

“Don’t call me that,” she spat, growing more fierce as she continued to resist.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” he comments, forcefully spreading her legs open, and balances himself between them.

“Get off my sister, you asshole!” Harry calls, as soon as he enters the room. He darts toward her and Seth, who rolls his eyes.

“Go away,” Gemma utters fiercely, unable to think of anything else to say as a last resort. Before Harry could put his hands on him, he vanishes.

Gemma leans upward in a sobbing mess. Harry embraces her into his arms as she weeps into his shoulder. He holds her tightly, not letting go. Harry is aware what exactly Seth attempted, which created a sickness in his stomach.

Anne steps forward, to aid in consoling her daughter. Gemma’s sobs don’t cease, which is truly understandable. She didn’t know whether to be sickened, or furious at the apparition’s attempt to rape her daughter.

“That’s it,” Anne throws her arms up, as this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “We’re moving. I can’t allow either of you to be at risk of danger in this house. I genuinely believed we were safe, since nothing has happened since November.”

 _At least nothing she was aware of,_ Harry thought. He was unable to think of anything else at the moment, only the sound of his sister weeping into his shoulder. He rubbed circles around her back, hoping to soothe her. Harry manages to briefly glance at the spot he remembered Louis once stood, to see him missing. He wanted to assume that Louis didn't want to impede and he gave Harry and his family the privacy they deserve. 


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, I didn't realize I would have taken this long. Long story short, school got in the way, along with other activities that took up most of my time where I wasn't motivated to write at all. I want to apologize for leaving you all on such a long cliffhanger. I just wrote and wrote, not putting much thought into how long this chapter should be. It's LONG, but it's necessary. I also wrote an epilogue, realizing that it wasn't enough and there needed to be some sort of proper closure to the storyline. Please mind the mistakes, once I finished the epilogue I wanted to post them as soon as possible because I know it's been a few months, and I will be gradually editing.

_**Eight Months Ago** _

 

Esther wandered the halls of the house, eyeing each new piece of furniture that appeared in the rooms. She regards the ugly, modern furniture with disdain, but she’s also bewildered because she’s never seen them before and she wondered where all her belongings were taken.

She steps into the living room, gasping at the new furnishings, along with the decor. Her face twists in revulsion and horror.

“What in God’s name?” she utters, her eyes scanning the room. “My beautiful house, my belongings, where did they go?” She takes several steps forward, her hand brushing against the shelves filled with books and knick-knacks “None of these are mine.”

Esther steps toward the sofa, brushing her hand against the fabric. “The fabric of these furnishings, how cheap.” She scoffs in disgust. “Repulsive.” Her eyes lift upward, turning around. “What did they do to my beautiful home? They scrapped it - destroyed each and every aspect of it and turned it into this...atrocity.” She sits down into the armchair, trying to acknowledge her vile surroundings.

Hearing footsteps approach from behind her, she slowly twists her body to see her husband. He rests his hand on her shoulder, meeting her doleful eyes as he stared down at her.

“What’s the matter, Esther?”

She struggles to find words. “Our house...they-they mutilated it; like scraping meat off the bones of a dead animal until there is nothing left.” She shudders, her eyes dropping to the hardwood floor.

“You don’t need to worry, Mrs. Livingston.” A peculiar, gruff male voice is heard as he enters the living room approaching the couple. Esther and her husband whip around to see Seth standing several feet away. Her eyebrows knit across her forehead, puzzled. Before either of them could ask who he is, he continues to speak. “I can promise you that you will have your home back soon. These infiltrators won’t stay long.”

Jonathan and Esther continue to gape at him, bewildered. They both question how he’s so certain.

“How can you be so assured?” Jonathan asks Seth, doubtful and not believing him one-hundred percent.

A smug grin forms across Seth’s face. “You can both trust me, I promise.”

Both Esther and Jonathan remain skeptical, not fully convinced. Though, they choose not to argue with the peculiar man, receiving a negative semblance from him.

 

* * * * *

 

Steam permeated throughout the bathroom. Harry and Louis both lie in the bathtub in the warm water. Louis is situated between Harry’s legs, lying backward, his back pressed against Harry’s chest as he situates his head by Harry’s shoulder.

Louis sighs, appreciating the intimate moments they share together, not knowing exactly how much time they have left. But it’s not that much longer, and he felt his gut wrench, knowing the inevitable day is arriving.

“So, I guess this is it…” Louis spoke, his voice soft with a dismal tone laced in it. He didn’t expect it to be this soon, and it crushed him. Harry had been reluctant to talk about it, considering the feeling was mutual for him. But he respected his mum and Gemma’s wishes, especially with the horrific event that had occurred.

“Yeah,” Harry responds coolly. He tried to sit more upward, wrapping his arms around Louis’ torso. He leans his head into the crook of his neck and begins to leave sporadic kisses all over his delicate skin and occasionally suckling. He tried to avoid thinking or speaking about it, desiring to live in the now and make the most of it.

“Harry.” Louis didn’t intend for it to come out as a soft moan, but it did. He pondered where this was going, but now’s not the time. Louis only wanted to lie there with him, the atmosphere was serene, and he was only trying to start a deep conversation.

Noticing Louis’ attitude, Harry respects his wishes to stop. He leans backward against the tub again.

“Time did fly by,” Harry remarks, continuing the conversation. It had passed by so fast Harry didn’t even realize it. He still recalls the first day they actually met, yet here they are now. His perspective on life had also altered drastically in the months he has lived in this house, and it was mostly Louis who shaped his newer perspective. It was all coming so fast, and Harry wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The emotional attachment he had to the lad was definitely out of the ordinary for him; having never harbored such intense feelings for someone before.

Feeling the water start to become colder, Louis decides to get out. He cranes his neck back to Harry, ushering him to follow. He leans forward, standing upward and stepping out of the bathtub. He grabs a towel off the rack.

Harry couldn’t help but find himself staring at the back of Louis’ alluring curvy figure as he exits the bathtub behind him. He grabs the other bath towel, drying his hair with it first, then wrapping it around his torso.

“Take a picture, it would last longer.” Louis could feel Harry’s eyes blazing onto his back. It’s not that it bothered him, but the brazen words slipped off his tongue. He spins around on the balls of his feet to face Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, stepping towards him so they were several inches apart. “I just can’t help but still admire your perfect little body.” He meets Louis’ gaze as his hands slid across Louis’ waist, and back towards his bum, caressing his hands around and the underside.

A smug tugs itself across Louis’ face; though, he was a tad offended over Harry using “little”.

“Oh gimme a break, I’m big,” he retorts audaciously with a cheeky smile across his face. He stands on his toes, trying to match Harry’s height, causing Harry to snicker in reaction.

Harry steps out of the bathroom to get dressed. Louis followed behind him. He reached into Harry’s closet, grabbing out a pair of Harry’s black skinny jeans. Louis turns back to him.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Louis holds up his jeans, asking Harry before putting them on.

Harry nods. His eyebrows knit across his forehead, confused by the rhetorical question. “Of course not. Why do you ask? You’re always free to borrow my clothes.” He slides the shirt over his head.

Louis shrugs, unable to answer Harry’s question. He didn’t know why he felt the need to ask him, considering Harry didn’t mind since day one. He actually encouraged the idea to Louis.

The doorbell was heard as it chimed. Harry remembered that he, Ianto and Luke had plans tonight. He tries to quickly comb through his hair, but not too quickly where it looks disheveled and rushed. He hasn’t seen his mates often, so of course he was eager.

He turns around from facing the mirror to see that Louis had vanished. Harry doesn’t know why, as he hasn’t told him yet that he had plans for tonight. He would have told him now. Brushing it off, he starts downstairs.

 

* *

 

Louis warmly welcomes Tanya inside. She remains stoic, her facial expression solid and pensive. The atmosphere around them is austere, almost unnerving.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you. It’s been so long.” she remarks coolly, stepping inside.

He shuts the door behind her. It’s been so many long years, he can’t remember either. He understood she must be confused by this sudden invitation, having not spoken in years.

“You all were so young. It was such a horrific event, a shame it was.” Tanya refers to he and his siblings. She sighs, regarding him with sad eyes, then shaking her head.

Louis doesn’t respond to her comment, only growing a bit unnerved. She decides to change the grim subject, and cut to the reason why she was invited over. It was all so random to her, and has taken her by complete surprise.

“Now why did you call me over? What could you possibly want?” She regards him with curious eyes, but proceeds into the kitchen, sitting on the stool at the island. Tanya watches him as he enters the kitchen.

“I overheard you mentioning a “ghost-whisperer” the last time you were here,” he spoke, approaching her. It was always common for him to eavesdrop on certain conversations, but he couldn’t help it.

Her eyebrows frown across her forehead. “What do you want with Roseanna?” She couldn’t figure out why, it was a mystery to her why a ghost would want to hire a medium.

“I need help getting rid of a ghost. He’s been tormenting Harry and his family...and I can’t lose him just yet.” His bleak eyes cast down to the island, sighing. Louis was on the brink of desperation to keep Harry from moving, but he didn’t let on, and hid those thoughts whenever he was around him.

She scoffs. “A person will do anything for someone they love. But getting rid of one spirit isn’t as simple as getting rid of them all.” She refrained from the homophobic comment that almost slipped off her tongue. “Especially in this crowded house.”

Louis nods, already aware of that information. He slowly lifts his eyes upward again to meet hers. He didn’t know how much time he had until anyone returned, which is why he wanted to make this quick.

“I don’t normally help people unless it affects or benefits me, but I’ll see what I can do.” She stands up. “But we’ll have to set up a day when they aren’t home for most of the time. She didn’t seem so keen on the idea when I mentioned it to her.” Tanya refers to Anne, and when she mentioned the idea of hiring a medium to help cleanse the house. “I should probably go.” She starts for the door. “Either of them could return at any given moment. I’m going to assume you invited me over without their knowledge.”

“Yeah.” Louis nods, sheepishly. He leads her out of the kitchen. There’s a detectable awkward ambiance between them, however, which is totally understandable. He remembered that she and his mum would speak often, but when they were alive, obviously.

 

* *

 

Harry steps through the doorway, immediately shutting the door behind him to prevent more of the frigid air from blowing inside. Since it was late, he doubted his mum or Gemma would still be awake. He was quite exhausted himself.

He shrugs off his jacket, taking a step forward and turning his head in the direction of the living room to see his mum sitting on the sofa. Her laptop is placed on her lap, she appeared to be engrossed in whatever she’s doing. Harry could feel a pair of eyes on him, but as much as it unnerved him, he doesn’t turn around, knowing nobody is present in the hallway except him.

Anne lifts her eyes upward, slightly turning and catching Harry’s curious eyes on her. She blithely waves him over.

“So, I have been searching for houses either near, or in Cheshire. I remember how blue you were when we left, so I decided to try to make it up to you.” She turns her laptop to show her son the list of homes for sale.

Harry doesn’t express much of a reaction, considering he’s not so happy about the move again this time. But he knew she meant well.

Noticing his disposition, the smile left her face. She takes the laptop, placing it on the cushion beside her.

“I know you don’t want to move, but we can’t live in this house anymore. I mean, one of those ghosts tried to rape your sister. Who else knows what they’re capable of?” She pauses, sighing. “There are evil, dark matters that live on this property, and I don’t want to risk either you or your sister to be their target.”

Nodding, Harry understood her. He couldn’t find any words to rebuke her statement, as she was right. He could feel the same pair of eyes blazing onto his back, causing goosebumps to rise all over his skin.

“Yeah, it would be nice to move back to Cheshire,” he responds, his voice dull and spiritless. He adds a thumbs up, with an attempted smile, then turns around. He yawns. “I’m gonna head to bed.” He leaves the room.

Entering his bedroom, Harry immediately spins around to see Louis leaning against the frame of his door, his arms crossed over his chest. He could only conclude that Louis had been watching him downstairs.

“Were you watching me downstairs?” Harry questions him, but he already knew the answer.

Louis nods, a smug grin across his face. He takes several steps toward Harry, lifting his arms up, setting them on Harry’s shoulders, wrapping them around the nape of his neck. He stands on his toes, pressing his lips against Harry’s. He breaks away after a few seconds, resting his feet back on the floor. His arms fall back at his waist.

“What if I told you that I found a way to get rid of certain ghosts?” Louis came off a bit too ecstatic about the idea. He observes how Harry’s eyebrows pinch, puzzled by what he meant.

“Didn’t you say getting rid of one is impossible, comparing to getting rid of them all?”

Louis shrugs. “Well, I might be wrong.” He adds a reassuring smile.

Harry still remained skeptical, unsure of how it could be done. But he knew Louis decided to do this to keep him from moving.

“Well, what’s your plan?” Harry questions him. He obviously wanted to be involved in the plan, since it does involve his business. He could see that Louis was reluctant to tell him, which rose more questions in his mind. “Whatever it is, I want to be a part of it.” Harry broke the silence, growing impatient waiting for Louis’ response.

Deciding to dress in his pajamas, Harry slides his shirt over his head, tossing it in the laundry basket. He strolls over toward his chest, pulling the drawer open and taking out pajama pants.

Louis sits down at the edge of Harry’s bed. It wasn’t how he expected the plan to carry out, but he guessed that he didn’t have much of a choice now. He couldn’t reject Harry’s decision to intervene, or else Harry would become suspicious. He watches Harry as he crosses the room and enters the bathroom.

Harry exits the bathroom and wanders back over toward his bed. He throws the duvet backward, sliding his legs underneath the warmth of the sheets. Louis crawls toward him.

“You can’t tell your mum or Gemma, though.” Louis was afraid if either of them found out the plan could be foiled. He was already reluctant to allow Harry.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched, confused. “Why not?” He’s not too fond of keeping secrets from them, so Louis’ demand won’t be easy for him. Hiding his relationship with Louis in the beginning was difficult for him to begin with.

“If they find out, I’m afraid the plan won’t go as accordingly. Your mum was already hesitant to hire a medium.” Louis slides his legs over the bed to stand up.

Harry only rolls his eyes, as this made him aware that Louis had been listening to the conversation with Tanya the last time she had visited. He observes how Louis sets his feet on the floor to stand up. But he doesn’t beckon him to stay, knowing if he wanted to he would.

“Go do your ghostly activities,” Harry stifles a snicker, playfully ushering him to leave as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Louis softly chuckles in response as he turns around.

He exits Harry’s room to find a young girl standing several feet away from him, in the direction of the staircase. He froze in his footsteps as she continued to gape at him with one big brown eye full of curiosity. She is definitely familiar to him, as he immediately recognized her as Edith Livingston.

Before Louis could say anything, she spins around and darts away, toward the staircase and down to the first floor. She was definitely very shy. Deciding to chase after her, he makes his way down the hallway. He knew it was a good idea to hide himself from either Anne or Gemma if they were to suddenly start up the staircase. If he wanted them to see him, they would.

He doesn’t make it halfway down the staircase until realizing she vanished. He tries to catch his breath as he stands on the step. She was peculiar to him, which led his curiosity about her uncalculated presence. Louis turns his head to see Anne shut off and close the laptop. She stands up, and starts in his direction. He almost hurries back up the staircase until he remembers that she can’t see him.

He moves to the right as she passes him. Turning around, he decides to follow her. He proceeds back up the staircase. He couldn't help himself, being a bystander around the living. It often reminded him of who he had been, before his life was taken from him. Anne peers into Harry’s room through the door left open a sliver. She then proceeds down the hall towards her bedroom.

He doesn’t follow her, but approaches Harry’s door, peering through the sliver to see him sleeping soundlessly, so placid and content. But as Louis regards Harry, he understood how the living were so naive, so ignorant and they take their life for granted; as much as Harry tried to empathize with him, he would never truly understand. Of course no one lives forever, but to have your life cut so short is another story.

“Who are you staring at?”

Louis whips around on the balls of his feet as soon as he hears the voice that belonged to Phoebe. She stands three feet away with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Just Harry,” he responds immediately.

“I figured that.” Her arms drop down to her waist. “Why aren’t you with him?” she asks, the question striking her. “You’ve always stayed with him the entire night, haven’t you?”

Louis shrugs. “I’ve been trying to distance myself from him a bit lately. I mean, it will be difficult already…” He tried to imply when Harry and his family will leave and he will have to say goodbye.

“You should go be with him,” she suggested. “Make the most of the time left you have.” She adds a reassuring smile, then with a wave of her hand, ushering him into Harry’s room.

 *

Harry rolls onto his other shoulder. His eyes peel open, receiving a glimpse of a figure lying beside him. His heart almost stops beating, but his eyes focused and he realized it was Louis. He rolls onto his back, trying to regulate his breathing again from almost having a heart attack.

“You have to stop doing that,” he begs, his morning voice deeper and raspy. He continues to breathe steady breaths. He hears Louis snicker.

“You’re no fun.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You have a twisted definition of fun.” A smug grin forms across Louis’ face in reaction. “Y’know, if you told me a year ago that this would be my life, I’d say you’re crazy.” He turns his head, taking a glance at him.

“Well, you are crazy,” Louis chuckles. He inches closer to Harry, their noses inches apart. “You lasted longer than two months in this house, and…” his voice trails off, but he pauses, unsure if to continue. But Harry was able to infer what he would have said even if he didn’t say it.

Louis wraps his arm around Harry’s body, tugging him closer. He situates his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry doesn’t refuse, instead, he encourages him. He appreciated these intimate moments they shared.

“I love you,” whispers Louis, craning his neck as much as he could to meet Harry’s gaze, expressing such adoration and affection.

“It’s been awhile…” Harry implied a bit of annoyance that it’s been quite some time he has heard those words from him. Louis scoffs, but before he could speak, Harry continues. “I’m kidding. I love you, too.” A smile curves upward on his face to reassure him.

Though he had fairly adjusted to his own, Harry’s body heat provided him comfort. Louis could hear the soft beating of Harry’s heart as it thumped regularly. The silence in the room is tranquil, creating a soothing sense of feeling around them.

Picking his head up, Louis situates his body upward. He leans his head down, pressing their lips together. His right hand snakes upward, towards his jaw to hold his head in place. The galvanism between them is immense, no other feeling would ever compare to the animation.

Louis eventually breaks away, lying down beside Harry. A thought randomly hits him.

“I can't believe the last time we had sex was on your birthday.” He scoffs, turning to Harry.

Harry shrugs. “I don't know, I haven't been in the mood lately.” He exhales a deep, lengthy breath. “It’s been rough the past few weeks.” Harry being lethargic and despondent had affected him mentally and physically. But he wouldn’t express it, afraid his mum or Gemma would notice and would worry. They both had enough on their plates at the moment.

“It was only an observation. There’s no pressure.” Louis shakes his head. He noticed how Harry carried out his words, setting up a red flag, but he doesn’t ask him.

Harry turns on his side, inching closer to Louis, their noses a few inches apart. There wasn’t a single flaw Harry could point out about him. He was perfect, and as much as he tried to, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else. The love Harry felt for him was unlike no other. He takes Louis’ hand, interlocking their hands together as he brings them both upward between their faces. Harry’s thumb lightly traces over the back of Louis’ cold hand.

“I don’t think I can imagine myself with anyone else but you,” Harry mutters, the words thoughtlessly slipping off his tongue. He watched as Louis blushed, but his face turned serious.

“If only it were possible…” He pauses for a few short seconds. “These few short months were amazing, Harry, but you deserve somebody else who you can start a family and spend the rest of your life with. Time doesn’t affect me.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it, realizing that it was pointless and he knew what Louis’ response would be. But he had an idea, however, he refused to share it. He understood the consequence if he did. He leans inward, desiring the notion to kiss him again. There’s an intense aura rising between them.

There’s a crashing sound heard as several objects hit the floor. Harry almost jumps out of his skin at the shrill sound. They both instantly turn in the direction of the origin. Several books lie on the ground, along with a two music albums and a now broken picture frame of he and his sister.

Harry couldn’t express how much he detested when they were impeded upon. He was reluctant to leave the warm enclosure of his bedsheets, but he was afraid of the possibility of risking stepping on broken glass later if he didn’t clean it up now. Sighing, Harry throws the sheets backward, setting his feet on the cold floor and plodding over.

“I’ll help you with that,” Louis volunteers, following him. He notices the shards of glass, and he watches where he steps.

Harry shakes his head, crouching down and grabbing the books. He hears footsteps from down the hallway, approaching his room. The sound must have been so loud it caused his mum to be concerned.

Anne pokes her head through the doorway, stepping into his room. Her eyes lay upon Harry who’s gathering several books off the ground. He turns to her as soon as she enters his room.

“I heard a clamorous sound from downstairs and I was worried,” she says, stepping toward Harry and Louis. She notices the shards of glass on the floor, along with the broken frame. She sighs, shaking her head. She can deduct that Harry obviously had nothing to do with it - he’s never so careless or clumsy. “I’ll get the dustpan to clean up all the glass,” she announces, then stepping out of the room.

Harry stands up, setting each book back on the shelf. Louis had cleaned up the albums before he could turn his attention to them. Harry steps over toward the rack containing his albums, noticing that one of the cases is cracked. He frowns, turning back around to see his mum step back into the room with the dustpan.

Harry takes it from her, crouching down to the floor and sweeping up all the shards. He makes sure he doesn’t miss any by scanning the floor.

“What happened?” Anne asks, the question mainly aimed towards her son.

Standing up, Harry shrugged. “We don’t know. We weren’t paying attention.” He wished he could give his mum a direct answer, but he couldn’t. It seemed as if nothing was so simple anymore. He dumps the glass into his trash bin, then handing the dustpan back to his mum.

Anne shakes her head, a firm scowl across her face. She takes the pan from his hands. She wanted to say something, but held herself back due to Louis’ presence.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re okay and not hurt,” she says, her voice dry, but trying to sound more upbeat. She regards Harry, and briefly glancing at Louis. Louis could detect a bit of animosity radiating from her. The climate had definitely changed ever since the event Gemma endured with Seth.

“I’m going to go grab something to eat,” Harry announces, stepping towards his door. He didn’t realize how hungry he is until now. His stomach was basically a bottomless pit, and he didn’t know how much he could eat.

“I guess I’ll stay here, then,” Louis murmurs. He takes a step backward towards Harry’s bed. Harry didn’t react to his words, instead he proceeded out of his room.

Harry steps into the kitchen to see his mum setting the kettle back on the stove. She turns the stove on, then spins around as soon as she hears footsteps enter the room.

“Is Louis behind you?” Is the first question she asks. She turns to grab a mug out of the cupboard. Harry found her question quite peculiar, but he responds instead of questioning it.

“No, and make that two, please,” he requests as she opens the cupboard. Anne grabs two mugs out and sets them on the counter. “He stayed upstairs.” He steps toward the pantry to search for something to eat.

“I didn’t feel comfortable mentioning anything about ghosts in his presence.” She awkwardly regards him, her eyes then dropping down to the floor.

“Oh...okay,” he murmurs, grabbing a cereal box out of the pantry. He can only wonder why, Louis’ not _that_ sensitive. Plus, he can also understand their frustration.

“I anticipate the day we finally move and our lives are normal again. I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this house.” Anne seemed flustered as she spoke. She knew they were words Harry didn’t want to hear, but she had little choice. She’d rather be honest then put on a façade.

He doesn’t say anything, and only continues to prepare his breakfast. His mum’s words stung a little, but he completely understood where she was coming from. But time had been moving by so quickly, and he felt as if it were all too soon. He’s not ready to move yet.

Harry steps back into his room. Louis sat at the edge of the bed, Harry’s laptop on his lap. His eyes were attached to the screen, and didn’t detach to see Harry reenter. Harry meandered over, sitting down beside him. The internet was opened. He watched as Louis maneuvered the mouse around the screen and began to type into the search bar.

“It’s ‘y’ ‘o’ ‘u’, not ‘u’.” Harry corrects him as he incorrectly spells ‘youtube’. Louis softly chuckles as he backspaces.

“I’m still learning.” He takes the laptop and sets it beside him, turning his full attention to Harry. “I was waiting for you to return. I didn't do much while using your laptop.” He catches Harry’s eyes gazing at him intently, seeming as if he disregarded his sentence.

“I think a person like you only comes once in a lifetime,” Harry mutters, leaning his head toward him. As much as Harry tried to pull himself back, his subconscious took control. Louis didn’t reject his advances, in fact, he submitted to them. Their lips were attached passionately.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Louis mumbles, as he breaks his lips away. He sighs, his eyes cast down, disillusioned. The tension between them increased. The atmosphere was heavy, almost bleak.

They both heard footsteps approaching from down the hall, which startled them. Anne pokes her head through the doorway. She pushes the door open a bit.

“I’m going to head out for the day. I wanted to let you know.” She notices how they both sat there, awkwardly and discomposed.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Harry’s voice sounded more pitched than usual, and he hoped it wasn’t as noticeable.

Once Anne left, Louis turned to Harry, an idea sprung to his mind. He preferred completing the task as soon as possible.

*

“Don’t you think it’s short notice?” Harry asks Louis as he follows him to the front door. Harry felt awkward not giving the person at least a day’s notice. Especially since they’re a complete stranger who he’s wary of. However, he wanted to trust Louis on this plan.

Louis unlocks and opens the door to see Tanya and a woman with shoulder length, wavy almond hair. Her skin tone was a few shades darker, almost a light bronze. Her hazel eyes immediately met Louis’.

Harry’s face formed into a look of confusion as Louis invited them in and he noticed Tanya. He would have never of figured that they’ve known each other.

“You know each other?” were the first words out of Harry’s mouth as soon as Tanya and the woman both stepped through the doorway.

Louis nods. “Yes, we do. Ever since I moved into this house.” He observes how Harry stands there, stunned. But Louis expected it to surprise him. He’s never mentioned it before or hinted about it.

Harry turned to the woman, deciding to introduce himself. He holds his hand out to shake.

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you.”

“Roseanna.” She expresses little emotion as they shake hands. She started to feel uncomfortable as soon as she stepped through the doorway. She turns to Louis, his aura being so strong it punched her in the stomach.

She steps forward, scanning her surroundings. A chill slithered down her spine. “So much misery and sorrow in this house…” she mumbles, meanding around the hallway. “Pain, and regret.”

“Rose, we need your guidance in getting rid of a specific unfriendly spirit,” Tanya spoke up. She remained calm and collected.

“Of course,” Roseanna spins around, attempting a smile. She can’t help as her eyes wander back to Louis as she makes eye contact with Tanya. Her smile falls. “I totally failed to remember something from my car. I should go and retrieve it before we start.” She expresses an apologetic look, then hurries past them.

Tanya sighs, rolling her eyes once Roseanna steps out. She observes how Louis moves closer to Harry and how they both interact, which intrigued her.

“Oh, so you two are an item?” She considered it an odd pair, considering the contrast between their backgrounds.

Harry nods, but doesn’t say anything. He anticipated being ostracized for it, as it’s what he’s received before. He observed how she expressed a distaste, but chose not to say anything else.

Several long minutes passed by. The three of them had been still waiting for Roseanna to return, but long enough to raise suspicions about what could be taking her so long.

“I’m going to check on her,” Tannya announces, becoming suspicious of her whereabouts. She opens the door and steps out.

Hearing a loud gasp because the door was left open a crack, Louis and Harry both exchange glances. Harry throws the door open, stepping outside to see Tanya looming over what seemed to be several drops of blood on the walkway. Her hand is covering her mouth, horrified.

“What in God’s name…” she gasps, the oxygen is missing from her lungs. Her eyes lifted, following the trail of small spatters toward the gate. Roseanna’s car is still parked in the place it was left, having not moved at all.

Harry, having no clue what to think of the scene, turns back to Louis who is just as perturbed. He takes several steps towards Harry, his eyes attached to the drops of blood. It was oddly peculiar, but also dismaying. There’s nothing about the situation that adds up, leaving them all bewildered. If it’s what it seems, only a ghost could have attacked Roseanna, but there is only one they all have in mind.

Louis’ blood began to boil, but he remained calm and collected. He refused to make the situation worse than it already appears. Now is definitely not the time express his anger.

“What do you think could have happened to her?” The question leaves Harry’s tongue, before he could mull it over and let Tanya examine the scene. She turns around, unable to give a direct answer.

“I don’t have any idea. But what ever happened to her must have been violent.” She heaves a deep sigh, disappointment crossing her face. She didn’t expect any of this to happen, and it tugged at her heartstrings, the possibility of what could have happened to Roseanna. “These ghosts are so vengeful…” Tanya comments, shuddering.

They all noticed how the drops of blood stopped at the gate, and didn’t continue onto the sidewalk, giving them the idea that she is somewhere on the property. The three of them had to find where. But there’s no telling if it’s too late.

Harry takes several steps forward, examining the trail of blood closely and understanding it doesn’t cross over onto the sidewalk. He inhales sharply, turning back around to them.

“She didn’t step over the property line, that’s a definite. But it also means she’s being held somewhere.” He sighs, shaking his head. He wanted to feel guilty and responsible, considering that each time someone steps onto the property something bad happens.

“What we need to do first is clean this up, especially before your mum or sister return,” Tanya speaks, repulsed by the sight. “It’s better that they don’t know anything.”

As much as Harry despises the idea of lying and keeping secrets from them, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. They’re both eager enough to finally leave this house for good. This definitely wouldn’t help the situation at all. Harry felt trapped. But he wanted to blame himself, for not shutting down Louis’ idea before it could formulate, then none of this would have occurred.

“Harry, we will figure this out,” Louis spoke, noticing how he’s becoming frustrated and anxious. He was only trying to remain positive.

“Just stop,” Harry blurts, brushing past Louis, intentionally striking both their shoulders as he stormed past him. Louis grimaced, his hand rubbing his shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to chase after him?” Tanya asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Louis shrugs. “Why would I? He has every right to be furious with me. I led an innocent woman into a death trap because I was foolish.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself. He takes another glimpse of the blood. “I guess I’ll clean this up.”

 

* * * * *

**_Six months ago_ **

 

Gemma sits in the passenger’s seat, while Harry sirs before the steering wheel. His eyes were fully glued to the road.

“Harry,” she spoke, trying to start a conversation as the atmosphere between them was too silent. “Do you have strong feelings for Louis?” She noticed how differently he had been behaving recently, how taken he's with the apparition. She definitely found it odd.

He hesitates to respond to her question, fearing he would be mocked or patronized. Harry dreaded the idea of his family finding out about him and Louis, but he couldn't keep it a secret for as long as he wanted to.

He finally nods, but doesn't say anything.

“You don't have to hide anything from me,” she pleads, noticing his elusive behavior. “I won't tease you, I would never.”

He briefly takes a glance at his sister, a small smile curving up on his face. He always appreciated her for being supportive of him.

“Do you love him?” Gemma asks the bold question, clueless of the reaction she’ll receive.

Harry shifts uncomfortably in the seat, hesitant to answer the question.

“Yes, in fact I do.” His voice was tiny, almost expressing a bashfulness. He felt awkward enough. “I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s just different, y’know? I’ve never really felt such a sense of comfort and endearment before.” The way Harry spoke of him was unique, and his sister had never heard him use those words before in that manner.

“I noticed you have seemed a lot happier recently,” she remarks, hoping to ease the awkwardness by lightening the conversation. She noticed how her brother felt about she and their mum being aware of he and Louis. He had been usually apprehensive regarding it, expressing the demeanor explicitly.

“When we moved in I was miserable,” Harry states, choosing to be totally honest. “But, ever since I met Louis he’s changed my life. I don’t know what I would have done if I never met him.” He heaves a deep sigh. He’s not sure if he sounded corny or not. He definitely didn’t want to be that person in a relationship.

He notices how his sister doesn’t say anything, but as he comes to a stop at a red light, he notices that she responds with a warm, supportive smile. Harry would never truly know how she feels about the situation unless she comes out and explicitly states it, and that’s what bugged him.

“Well, mum and I are happy for you,” she spoke, “I just wanted you to know that.” There was an uneasiness in her tone of voice that he could detect, but he doesn’t pay much attention to it.

 

* * * * *

 

Wandering the halls of the house, Harry’s anxiety only increased as time passed by. He could only anticipate when his mum and Gemma would return - he had been hiding too much from them. He hadn’t seen Louis ever since he stormed away earlier. But Harry knew he should understand that it wasn’t fully Louis’ fault, it was his own. He could have shut the idea down in the first place, instead of riding along with it, and he wouldn’t have to be concerned about being responsible for another dead body on this property.

Maybe it is a good idea after all to move, he considered. Harry began to fully understand his mum’s point of view, and he didn’t know how much more stress he could take. It had taken a great toll on him.

Hearing the sudden sound of footsteps behind him, he whips around on the balls of his feet. Harry’s heartbeat began to quicken, growing anxious as the atmosphere grew ominous around him. He scans his surroundings, yet there’s nobody in sight. He’s assertive about hearing the footsteps, but he only grew more tense.

The sound of the front door unlocking and opening broke Harry out of his thoughts. He takes several, slow steps toward and down the staircase, his feet feeling heavier at each step he took. Once he’s able to take a glance over the railing and receive a clear view of the hallway downstairs, he sees his mum step through the doorway. Harry immediately felt relief flow through him at the sight of her.

Closing the door behind her and turning back around, Anne’s eyes lift upward to see her son on the staircase, gazing down at her from over the railing. Judging by his demeanor, she could tell that he was relieved to see her.

“Hi, Harry,” she says, sliding off her jacket and hanging it up. Harry proceeds down the staircase almost eagerly. He comprehended that it wouldn’t take long for her to figure out that there’s a more pressing issue that would take a lot of explaining, which he also feared at the same time.

*

Anne, Harry, and Gemma all sat at the table in the kitchen. It had been a rather quiet dinner, but his sister definitely was sure something was up judging by how quiet and reserved he had been for the time being she’s been home. It’s not like Harry to be the quiet one, as he’s often the exact opposite.

“Harry, is everything okay? You seem not yourself today,” Gemma inquires, then taking a sip of her lemon water. She regarded him with skepticism and curiosity.

Continuing to poke around his food, he realizes the longer he doesn’t respond they will only grow more suspicious. He stabs a piece of ham with his fork, lifting it upward. Harry finally nods.

“Everything’s fine.” He sticks the ham into his mouth and continues to chew, observing their reactions to his sketchy response.

“Are you sure? You seemed a bit off today,” Gemma pursues, aware that he’s not telling the truth and is hiding it for some reason.

Harry nods a second time while chewing. Knowing his sister so well, he could tell that she was wary and had difficulty believing him. He never really felt comfortable discussing the occurrences in this house, especially those that happen behind their backs. He also had no idea how to explain it.

What else bothered him is that he still hasn’t seen Louis all day - since the afternoon. Harry could only assume that Louis was ashamed and was afraid of how Harry would react if they crossed paths again today. But Harry couldn’t be furious with Louis, because it wasn’t his fault. It was his own.

Eventually excusing himself from dinner once he finished his meal, Harry starts for the staircase to head upstairs. He doesn’t feel very comfortable being around people at the moment, and hoped to spend time alone - it’s what he needed.

Harry paced his room a few times, and he eventually found himself sitting at the edge of his bed. The silent atmosphere unnerved him. His head jerked upward, believing he heard a sound, but he’s the only person in the room. It caused his blood to run cold, however. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and goose bumps rose all over his skin.

The feeling suddenly disappeared, and he began to feel his nerves begin to ease. But Harry wasn’t exactly one-hundred percent comfortable. He could feel a pair of eyes on him, as if he were being watched, but he couldn’t spot whoever. He scans the room once again, but he received another dismaying result.

 

*

 

Afraid to approach Harry, Louis doesn’t make his presence known. His behavior earlier indicated that he didn’t want to be bothered, which was understandable. But Harry still emanated the implication, causing Louis to keep a measurable distance. Harry would eventually bounce back, but it would take some time. This wasn’t so easy for him to recover from.

Louis sauntered down the staircase, step by step. He hears the voices who belonged to Anne and Gemma in the kitchen. They were chattering about Harry, Gemma expressing her concerns because of how odd he acted ever since she returned home. Often things were easier said than done, and Louis wished there was a simple way to be honest with them about what he and Harry have done, and not just now, but before also.

Louis steps into the dusky and mucid basement. He proceeds down the staircase, searching for the light switch on the wall. He spots a figure in the shadowy distance afar, soon distinguishing the smug face and brawny figure. He could feel his blood begin to boil, but attempted to keep a reasonable temperament.

The figure began to emerge from the shadowy area in the room. He still holds the smug grin on his face, the sick and twisted look that Louis always recognized.

“Now, before you open your mouth, there is a misunderstanding,” Seth spoke, before Louis could say anything. The expression on Louis’ face didn’t change, as he regarded him with contempt.

“A misunderstanding?” Louis crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows knitting across his forehead, wondering where this is going. He began to have second thought that he was falling into a trap and he shouldn’t believe a word out of Seth’s mouth.

“She’s alive.” Seth continues to step towards him, but Louis takes a step backward to keep the amount of distance that was comfortable for him. “It was all a prank. She’s fine.”

Louis shakes his head. Knowing he’s a psychopath and he’s capable of anything, he doesn’t believe him. “I don’t believe you.”  
A light chuckle emits from Seth. It was the response he expected. Louis doesn’t trust him, and he’s aware of it.

“Go see if her car is still parked outside,” he suggested. He watched as Louis eyed him suspiciously, circumspect about taking his word. Seth’s shifty persona made him have doubts. With a wave of his hand he urges Louis. Louis continues to stand there, deep in thought about his decision.

With a strong reluctance, Louis turns around. He proceeds to walk away. If his heart could beat, it would be in his throat.

His feet don’t stop, as they continue to carry him away up the staircase. He closes the door behind him, strolling down the hallway and into the living room. Louis peers out the window, searching for the vehicle which belonged to Roseanne where he last remembered seeing it.

It was missing. He believed his eyes were deceiving him, but they weren’t. He’s aware he will never exactly know what happened earlier, but it feels as if a giant weight has been lifted off his chest knowing that she’s not dead.

 

* * *

 

Harry reaches the top of the staircase. He had just returned home from a lunch date with his family, and they had discussed some imperative matters. Harry’s stomach lurched, his lunch churning in his stomach as he continued to mull over their discussion at lunch. It was final, but he still had many mixed feelings over moving, regardless of the event yesterday. But his opinion did lean in a certain direction.

He enters his room to find Louis sitting at the edge of his bed, his hands folded across his lap, staring down at the floor. His head jerks upward as soon as he hears footsteps enter through the doorway, his eyes landing on Harry. Louis’ facial expression lit up, as did Harry’s as well. He stands up. They don’t say anything, except pull each other together into a tight embrace, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

Harry remembered how amazing it felt to be in the comfort of Louis’ arms again. Though it only had been a full twenty-four hours, he still missed him. He didn’t want to let go, but he had to eventually.

Louis, being the first one to break away, figures he should explain everything and provide the truth about what occurred with Roseanne.

“Harry, she’s fine. She’s not dead,” he spoke quickly, but carefully choosing his words.

Confused about how he knows this, Harry’s wants to know, but he doesn’t ask him. He realized there was only one person who could have told him the news and was responsible for the fiasco. But he feels his anxious emotions begin to settle, hearing the good news. It was all that mattered to him, not how Louis found out.

As Harry continues to stand there just a few short inches away from Louis, he feels the longing desire to kiss him and hold tightly him in his arms. But he holds himself back, knowing he shouldn’t. The topic of discussion between them is about to take a dark and gloomy turn.

Louis noticed Harry’s facial expression flip, turning cheerless. It was time Harry broke the news, he deserved the right to know. Harry sighs, his gaze cast down to the floor, brushing past Louis’ shoulder. Louis spins around, scrutinizing his behavior which had a sudden, drastic change.

“My mum is putting the house up for sale soon,” Harry announces, but his voice shy and almost a murmur. He turns around to face Louis with a sullen demeanor.

For Louis, it doesn’t register for him right away, but several seconds pass and Harry’s words settle in. He regards Harry with confusion. Everything seemed to be happening so fast.

“Define soon?” Louis continued to observe Harry’s behavior, as Harry continues to avoid eye contact with him. He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not sure how to feel about the announcement, believing as if it was thrown in his face without any indication.

Harry shrugs. “This week, possibly.” His eyes continue to wander, mostly avoiding Louis’ gaze by staying attached to the floor. He’s afraid to, knowing it would crush him if he did meet Louis’ bleak eyes. Harry sits down on at the edge of his bed, heaving a deep sigh. The tensions in the room were so thick you could cut them with a knife. Burying his head in his hands, he soon lifts his head back up to meet Louis’ solemn gaze.

“I-I can’t do this anymore.” The words slipped off his tongue so easily, too fast where he couldn’t catch them. He diverts his gaze away once more, but Louis situates himself closely beside him. Harry feels Louis’ cold fingers trace the edge of his jawline, slowly turning his head towards him.

Louis places his lips against Harry’s softly. To his dismay, Harry doesn’t feel it as much anymore. The sensation he felt from the touch of their skin or when their lips met started to diminish. He knows Louis won’t understand what he’s trying to get across unless he comes out and explicitly states it.

“We will sort this out,” Louis insists, taking Harry’s hands in his and holding them tightly. “You will be okay, Harry - everything will be okay.” He added a reassuring smile, hoping to sooth his nerves.

Harry shakes his head. “No, it’s much more than that.” He heaves a shaky breath, exhaling slowly. He watches as Louis’ eyebrows knit across his forehead, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Hesitating to elaborate, Harry’s gaze diverts from Louis’ again. He doesn’t know how to continue, feeling his heart break at the thought of what he’s preparing to say.

“I’m telling you to ‘go away’.” Harry feels tears fill in the ducts of his eyes, his throat becoming raw.

Louis thought his ears were deceiving him. He gaped at Harry for several seconds, his jaw fallen to the floor. “W-what?” he stutters, completely stunned by those words he never thought he’d hear Harry utter. “Harry, do you even know what you’re saying?”

Harry nods. “I do. I’m so sorry it has come down to this.” He pauses, expelling another trembling breath. He wipes the tears away from corners of his eyes with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do this, please,” Louis pleads, squeezing Harry’s hand tighter, not wanting to let go. It was so sudden, he couldn’t understand why he would be shutting him out. “You can’t just shut me out like this without any explanation.”

Louis’ words don’t have any effect on Harry. They enter through one ear and exit the other. “Go away, Louis,” he utters, refusing to make any eye contact with him. He hears him scoff, tearing his hand out of Harry’s.

“Goodbye, Harry,” are the last words from Louis as he gazes at his side profile with saddened eyes before he vanishes.

Harry lifts his head upward in the direction of where Louis once sat. He swallows back a lump forming in his throat. He feels shitty, providing Louis no explanation at all. He didn’t give him any warning, and made the decision right on the spot. But another part of him convinced him it was the right choice. It would have been a lot harder for him if he didn’t let go now instead of last minute before he left the house for good. He can't bring himself to move, and he sits there, drowning in his thoughts.

 

*

 

Sitting on the stool at the kitchen island, Louis is lost in his thoughts. He doesn’t quite understand what has just happened, but only knows that his heart had been broken in the most indiscreet way possible. It was the last thing he expected from Harry, and that’s what hurt the most.

Hearing footsteps, his head jerks upward toward the entrance to see his mum standing on the threshold. He could see that she was worried about him, curious about what had occurred between he and Harry. She enters the kitchen, and he slides off the stool.

She holds her arms out, and he envelops his arms around her tightly. She rubs circles on his back.

“What happened between you and Harry?” she asks, his demeanor concerning her.

“He-he shut me out.” Louis stumbles on his words. He chooses not to elaborate, as she understands what he means.

“I’m so sorry. I know he made you very happy.” Jay pauses for a few short seconds. “But there’s probably a good reason why he did it.”

Louis unwraps his arms, breaking away. He lifts his gaze upward to meet her eyes. He knew she was only trying to help him by being sensible in this situation. But he could predict was his mum was going to say next.

“You know him better than I do, but there’s a high chance he’s only trying to distance himself now because it will be hard for him already.”

“...And if he doesn’t see my face it won’t convince him to stay and it will be easier for him to leave,” he adds, considering the possible most reasonable explanation. Knowing Harry, this was his exact reason. He doesn’t know how to express how eternally grateful he is to have his mum. He didn’t know what he would do without her. “Thanks, mum. I haven’t the faintest idea what I would do without you.” His words make her smile, as it warms her heart.

 

* * *

 

Closing the box containing his music albums, Harry lifts it up off the ground and starts for the door. Since he only had two days left in this house, he started packing his belongings up. The movers would take care of the bigger and more major furniture when they arrive in two days. Anne had been quite assertive in moving out as soon as they could.

Though it had only been three days, it had been oddly quiet recently, it was almost too quiet where he began to have suspicions. But living in this house, he was never sure what he could consider ‘normal’ anymore.

Feeling hungry, he decides to start down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. He is home alone, Anne had gone out to buy more storage containers to finish packing things up and Gemma tagged along with her.

Harry reaches the end of the hallway and stops at the first step of the staircase as he remembers that he left his phone on his night stand. He always thought he should have it with him in cases of an emergency. Annoyed, he steps backward to turn around and stroll back down the hallway.

Before he could turn around, he feels a sharp, blunt object piercing into his back through his shirt. He winces, unable to move as the object pierces closer into his skin. Another several seconds and the sharp pain is gone, but Harry is left confused. He harbored a mistrust, fearful of turning around and discovering who’s behind him.

Refusing to be a pussy, he spins around on the balls of his feet. He’s tired of being the victim of this house, and he won’t let himself be pushed around by the apparitions any longer.

Before he could receive a glimpse of whoever is behind him, the sharp object is forcefully injected into his stomach. It takes him by complete and utter shock, his breath stolen from his chest and grimacing in agony as the knife coated with his blood is drawn out of his skin. The woman lifts her leg up, kicking him in the same spot. Harry flies backward, sliding down the staircase head first. He hears the dark chuckle of the woman as he tumbles down the staircase.

Harry doesn’t think twice about what is happening to him. He understands that these are his final breaths, and his mum or Gemma will walk in to find their only son and brother dead. His head hits the floor with a final ‘thud’, his skull cracking. His blood began to pool around his head. Instantaneously, his eyesight diminishes, along with the rest of his senses.

Louis, sitting on a stool at the island in the kitchen, hears continuous loud, peculiar sounds from the staircase, proceeding its way downward. Knowing that Harry is home alone, it sets up a red flag in his head. They weren’t just ordinary sounds, but as if a large, human body-like mass took a plunge down the staircase. He doesn’t think twice before hopping off the stool and scurrying into the hallway.

The oxygen escapes his lungs as his eyes lay upon the horrifying sight. He feels his knees buckle, his limbs turning weak as he continues to gape at Harry, who lies breathless on the floor with a puddle of blood surrounding him. It doesn’t take a second for Louis to be kneeling on the floor beside Harry’s body. Tears welled in his eyes. This wasn’t what he wanted for him, believing he deserved so much better. Harry had his whole life ahead of him, yet it had been stolen from him. 

“No, no no no," he utters, the tears rolling down his rosy cheeks. "You didn’t deserve this,” he croaks, his voice raw and harrowed. He convulses as he observes the bloody spot in his t-shirt, appearing to be a stab wound, then turns back to Harry’s cadaverous, lifeless face and he feels his heart shatter more. He lifts his hand up, placing his two fingers on Harry's eyelids and shutting them over his eyes. 

He leans against the wall and buries his head in his hands. He gradually slides his hands down his face, lifting his head back up to receive another glimpse of Harry. He draws in another sharp breath. Louis realizes he can’t stay here for too long, knowing Anne or Gemma could return at any time, and he definitely didn’t want to witness their reactions. It's difficult for him to harbor the strength to stand up and leave Harry, but he knows he doesn't have a choice.

He marches up the staircase, trying to make as little sound as possible. All the blood made him start to feel uneasy. He meanders down the long hallway, but comes to an immediate halt as he reaches Harry’s bedroom. Louis feels his heart drop. He sets his hand on the door, slightly pushing it open.

Louis steps into Harry’s room. The atmosphere seemed more frigid, causing a shudder to snake throughout his body. For some reason, Harry’s room provided him a sense of comfort, along with an underlying sense of stability and complacency. He felt lost and miserable before he met Harry, but now they are one and the same. However, he felt awful for allowing that last thought to cross his mind. He understood how eager Harry had been to move out.

“I guess this is what it feels like…”

Louis’ breath hitches in his throat and he spins around on the balls of his feet as soon as he hears Harry’s voice. He is sitting at the edge of his bed. They both make eye contact, and it doesn’t take a second for Harry to stand up and they both wrap their arms around each other in a tight embrace.

“I am so sorry,” Louis manages, his head nestled on Harry’s shoulder, “You deserved so much better than this.” He unwraps his arms, and Harry follows, along with a long, drawn out sigh. He doesn’t think much about himself, but expresses more of a concern with his mum and Gemma. They have been through so much already, and he couldn’t bear the thought of how they will cope with losing him. But he always worried about his mum, and this will only cause him to worry about her more than ever.

“I’m so cold,” Harry mutters, stepping backward and shuddering. Though he hated the feeling of cold, it was definitely going to be an adjustment for him.

“Well, it’s definitely an adjustment,” Louis points out. “But you will adapt quickly. You won’t even notice it anymore.”

“How exactly did I die?” Harry doesn’t think twice before asking the morbid question. He can’t recall any of the events leading up to his death, and he could understand what Louis was talking about when he mentioned being unable to remember his own. Louis is hesitant to answer the question, afraid to leave him feeling worse than he already does.

Instead of answering his question, he decides to show him. Louis takes Harry’s hand, leading him out of the room and down the hallway. He wasn’t so sure if he would understand when trying to give an explanation.

Before they could reach the staircase, the sound of the door downstairs unlocking and opening caused them both to freeze in their tracks. Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, knowing it’s his mum and Gemma. He and Louis both step away immediately, expecting the scene to escalate.

The outbreak of bloodcurdling screams turning into bawling caused Harry’s heart to shatter and his stomach to twist into knots. It was as if the knife that had been used to stab him was still inside him, but being pushed deeper and is being twisted. He continued to listen to their sobs, pleading for him to be alright and to wake up - the first stage of denial. Feeling tears prick the ducts of his eyes, Harry starts for the staircase, but Louis holds him back.

“Harry, don’t,” he pleads, tightening his grip on Harry’s hand. “It will only hurt more seeing them this way.” Harry turns back to Louis with glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. He rips his hand out of Louis’ walking back down the hallway.

“They can only say it was a suicide…” Harry murmurs, flustered. Only his family will know the truth, that it definitely wasn’t a suicide. But there is no other possible way to explain his death, since he was the only person in the house at the time.

“Well…” Louis began, but before he could finish his sentence, Harry cut him off.

“What else can they say? A ghost killed me?” He scoffs. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” As much as it hurt, he had to face the reality of the situation. No person who has ever step foot in this house will take their word for it on the existence of ghosts.

Louis doesn’t say anything, knowing that Harry is right. He could see the agony Harry is experiencing, and he is trying to empathize with him hoping to guide him through this. However, both of their thoughts were drowned out by the voices of Anne and Gemma, which did the exact opposite.

*

Sitting on a stool at the island in the kitchen, Harry holds a hot cup of tea in his hands, providing him warmth throughout his body. There hasn’t been a dull moment in this house since he died. His mum has been a mess, prompting him to want to see her, but each time he pulled himself back. Louis told him it’s not a good idea, and he ought to listen to him.

Hearing footsteps, Harry cranes his neck to see Louis enter the kitchen. He situates himself on the stool besides him.

“It still hasn’t hit me yet that I will never see them again,” Harry mutters, setting the mug down on the island. He lifts his eyes upward to meet Louis’, a grave sadness in them. “I just wish I could see them one last time.” He sighs, his gaze dropping back down to the island.

“You can't let them see you,” Louis objects. “It’s already hard for them, it would only make it worse. I can assure you it will hurt a lot more. Not seeing you will make it easier for them to leave.”

An idea sprouts in Harry’s mind. If he wanted to communicate with his family this might be the only possible way.

“I have an idea,” he reveals, sliding off the stool and searching for the drawer which held the notepad and pens. He can feel Louis’ curious eyes on his back as he pulls the drawer open.

Harry sets the notepad and pen on the island and he sits back on the stool. He uncaps the pen, the words spilling from his mind onto the paper. He knows that Louis is watching him as his hand glides across the notepad, but he doesn’t mind. He needed someone to proofread.

Hearing footsteps march down the staircase and approach the kitchen before they fade into the living room, Harry freezes. He almost ducks and hides before he remembers that he can’t be seen.

Louis softly chuckles. “Did you forget that they can’t see you?”

Harry nods as he resumes writing the note. He begins to wrap up his final thoughts, then signs his name. He caps the pen then slides the notepad over to Louis, indicating for him to read it.

“You sure you want me to read this? I thought it would have been too personal where you wouldn’t want me to.” He watches as Harry nods, urging him to read it.

“Well, I trust you. I wouldn’t let anyone else proofread it,” Harry mentions, as Louis starts the first sentence.

Harry notices how Louis’ facial expression changes. A smile is lifted across his face, but the it drops, completely taken away by what’s written.

“Wow,” he murmurs, stunned. “In all the forty-five years I’ve been on this planet, I don’t think I’ve ever read a piece so impressively moving and benevolent.” He’s completely taken aback by how those words came from Harry’s mind.

Without saying anything, Harry slides the notepad back toward him. He tears the paper out, placing it on the island where either his mum or Gemma will see it. He was indecisive whether to stick around to see it be read and for the reaction following.

A question strikes Louis’ mind, a thought that’s been there for awhile but he never got around to asking it.

“Question: why did your sister call me ‘Casper’?”

Harry laughs in response to the question. He always found the reference quite funny because it fit Louis so well. “It’s a reference to a film called _‘Casper the Friendly Ghost._ ’ You probably have never seen it because it came out in the ‘90’s.”

“Nope, never seen it.” Louis shakes his head.

 Harry turns his gaze down to his tea which has now cooled down a lot. A random thought entered his mind, causing his mood to turn sour. He scoffs.

“I’ll be spending the rest of eternity in this house. It’s scary to think about.” He shudders.

“You won’t be alone though,” Louis comments, lifting his arm up and draping it around Harry’s nape. “We have each other. Plus, I think my mum already adopted you into the family.” He finished the sentence with a smile, trying to lift Harry’s mood.

“But we can’t start a family or grow old together,” Harry objects, looking at the situation realistically. Louis shrugs, dropping his arm. He understands it was a wish Harry had.

To interrupt their little moment, Gemma comes strolling into the kitchen. It had still been an adjustment for Harry, being able to see her but she can’t see him.

“It’s like a one-way mirror,” Harry mutters as he watches his sister. “You can see them, but they can’t see you.”

“Something like that.” Louis shrugs, having never thought of it that way.

She disregards the note on the island, sauntering over towards the cupboard. She grabs a glass, filling it up with water from the sink. Gemma leans against the counter, taking a sip and staring past Harry and Louis. Ever since his death, she hasn’t been the same. It hasn’t been easy to cope with the fact that her brother is actually gone. But she also figured it’s also because she hadn’t had proper closure.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry asserts, turning to slide off the stool. It hurt too much to watch his sister sulk around the house, and he couldn’t be a bystander anymore.

“I won’t stop you,” Louis says, watching Harry set his feet back on the floor.

Gemma sets the glass in the dishwasher then exits the room. Harry swiftly follows her, not hesitating once. His feet carry him up the staircase, down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Stopping dead in her tracks, the sound of footsteps behind her causes her to spin around. Her breath hitches in her throat, her heart almost ceasing to beat as her eyes lay upon her brother standing in the doorway to her room. Tears prick the ducts of her eyes, she runs into his arms, holding him in a tight embrace. He rubs circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

His touch was cold. To her, it wasn’t the same. But it was Harry, and it’s all that mattered to her. She doesn’t want to let go, but she reluctantly steps backward. Gemma has so many questions, she doesn’t know where to start.

“Before you ask, I don’t know.” He speaks before she could ask the obvious question he was aware she would ask. He can only deduct so little answers from the wound on his stomach, but they weren’t enough. “But you and mum need to leave. You can’t stay here.”

“But that means we have to leave you. You know how mum is.” She wipes the tears away before they fall down her cheeks, then crosses her arms over her chest.

“I can’t let anything happen to you or mum. You have to leave,” he insists, taking a step towards her. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He attempts to give her a reassuring smile.

“I’ll miss you,” she manages, trying to hold back tears. This was the closure that she wanted, and she couldn’t have asked for it any other way. “You were the best little brother I could ask for. And I know you won’t be alone because you have Louis.”

Harry smiles and wipes away the tears in the ducts of his eyes. He decides to hug her again, holding his sister tightly in his arms. He hears her tiny sobs as she weeps into his shoulder.

 

He steps out of her bedroom and proceeds back down the staircase. He spots Louis waiting for him at the banister.

“You were right. It does hurt,” Harry utters, as he steps down onto the floor. Louis shrugs, giving him the ‘I told you so’ look. He rests his hand on Harry’s back as he follows him.

*

  
Anne shuts the front door behind her. She shrugs off her jacket, then plods into the kitchen with a heavy heart. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the staircase, since it was where she found Harry. She wandered the halls of the house with dread and anguish, but it was hard for her to move out and leave him.

She treks into the kitchen, setting her handbag on the counter. Noticing a piece of paper with writing on it on the island, Anne snakes over to it. She picks it up, but she freezes and her heart sinks recognizing it as Harry’s handwriting. The oxygen is stolen from her lungs. Her hand covers her mouth as she begins to read.

_Dear mum and Gemma, I know it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, but it did. It’s painful writing this letter, but it's the only way I can communicate with you. You don't have to worry about me, because I am with Louis. I can’t put into words how happy we both are, and I couldn’t be more thankful to have him in my life. I don’t know what I would do without him. But, I also couldn’t have asked for two amazing women who have both had a huge impact on me and shaped my life. I implore that you both continue to live the rest of your lives to the fullest without me hindering you. I love you both and hopefully we will all meet again one day. - H_


	13. Epilogue

_**Six Months Later** _

 

A new family had moved in. The new family had been quite aloof about the paranormal activity in the house. They were persistent about moving in, fearless of what their future may hold while living in their new home. It came as a shock to Harry, not expecting anyone to move in so quickly once his own family left. It had been an adjustment for him, feeling out of place and an intruder in a home that doesn't belong to him anymore. 

The new family is gathered in the living room, along with who appeared to be the the three kids’ grandparents. Harry couldn’t help but find himself watching them in conversation from a distance. It still felt odd to him, seeing new people move into a house that was once his, though he still feels like it is. The new furniture made him feel out of place. He considered the idea that this is how Louis must have felt.

“Word on the street is that this house is haunted,” the one son mentions, trying to start a conversation. He turns to his younger brother, a smug look on his face. “You don't believe in ghosts, do you?” He seemed to be taunting him.

Harry noticed the jeering demeanor, aware that if the younger boy said yes, his older brother would ridicule him in front of his whole family.

“No, of course not!” the younger boy spat, glaring at his brother who held a smirk on his face. He felt contempt over the fact he was trying to mock him.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Harry cranes his neck to see Louis step up beside him.

“I remember when I was like that,” Harry remarks, feeling as if it was just yesterday he moved in and he and his sister were holding a conversation over ghosts.

“Until you met me,” Louis retorts, a cheeky smile on his face. Harry softly chuckles, recalling the memory.

Harry draws out a deep sigh. “Everything changed when I met you.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze meeting Louis’. Just his presence lit up the room, causing Harry to feel warmth and secure.

Louis turns around, marching into the kitchen. Harry trails behind him. He walks in to see Louis sitting on the island with a small smile on his face as his eyes lay upon Harry. Harry strolls over, stopping in his tracks right in between his legs. He sets his hands on his thighs, stepping forward, closer to Louis where they were inches apart.

“Is it cliché to say I can’t imagine a life without you?” Harry whispers, the corners of his lips curving upward as his hands caress up Louis’ thighs.

This causes Louis to softly chuckle and nod. “A bit.”

“You are just so amazing,” Harry proceeds, leaning inward, their lips brushing up against each other, and eventually Harry presses his against Louis’. He lifts his right hand upward, cupping his hand underneath Louis’ jawline.

Moving down to his neckline, Harry starts to maneuver tiny kisses around on his skin. His hands snake upward towards the zipper on Louis’ pants, attempting to pull it down.

“Stop,” begs Louis, trying to drive Harry off of him. “We can’t. Not right now.” Harry steps back, confused and a frown on his face.

“Why not? We can’t be seen.”

Louis shakes his head, and uncomfortable look on his face. “It doesn’t feel right. It just feels wrong.” He slides off the island and sets his feet back on the floor. “Later, alright?”

The footsteps belonging to the wife were heard approaching the kitchen, causing Harry’s head to spin in the direction. She often reminded him of his own mum, which placed a stab to his heart. He regularly missed his family, as he almost always kept them in his thoughts. There wasn’t a day that had gone by where he thought about his mum, and especially his sister.

“Is everything alright?” Louis notices Harry’s sudden change in demeanor, intriguing him. Harry appeared to be deep into thought, Louis’ words not registering for him. “Harry?” Louis repeats, stepping towards him, cocking his head a little as he tried to meet his gaze.

Breaking himself out of his train of thought, Harry’s eyes snap upward to Louis’ worried ones. He nods.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” He didn’t seem too confident, causing Louis to have doubt. Knowing Harry so well now, he was able to tell when there was something wrong but he wouldn’t open up to him. “Just thinking about my mum,” he mutters timidly.

Louis responds with a look of sympathy. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to fall into one of these moods, but he was always there for him when he did. It always hurt him to see Harry like this.

“You did the right thing. They couldn't have stayed here,” he chimes in, trying to lift Harry’s spirits.

“I know,” Harry nods, lifting his gaze back upward to meet Louis’. “I couldn't afford for one of those ghouls to get their hands on them.” He finishes the sentence with distaste, mainly towards the certain ghosts who strive to make lives miserable. “But now we have a new family to worry about,” he mentions, sighing. He turns his gaze towards the wife, making tea.

“I already have a plan,” Louis says, but hesitated to continue. “But you may not like it.” He deadpans, afraid of making eye contact with Harry who responds with a questioning look. Knowing Harry, he already realizes he won’t like the idea.

Harry rolls his eyes, getting an idea. He’s sure there are other ways, but it was unknown to him if Louis would be willing to comply.

 

* 

 

The oldest son strolls down the hallway and takes a turn into his bedroom. He stops in his tracks as soon as his eyes lay upon Harry, standing over by his window, peering out through the curtain.

“Excuse me,” he utters, causing Harry to spin around on the balls of his feet. Harry’s eyebrows frown, puzzled. He didn’t realize that he could be seen.

“You can see me?” Harry takes a few steps toward him, as he remains frozen solid, gaping at him.

“Of course I can see you,” he fiercely spat, “Are you high?” Before Harry could answer the question, the boy continued to speak. “Who the hell are you? And how did you get in my house?”

“This used to be my room…” Harry murmurs, earning a puzzled reaction from the boy. He quickly decides to change the subject. “Well, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.” Harry blithely holds out his hand to shake. Remaining bewildered, the boy reluctantly steps forward and grabs his hand, immediately noticing how abnormally cold it is.

“Zach. Your hand is so cold.” He yanks his hand out of the handshake, a shiver slithering down his spine. Harry steps back awkwardly, but he lets the remark roll off his back.

“I think I better go,” Harry mutters, starting to feel the awkwardness setting in. “But it was nice meeting you.” He steps past him, hastily exiting the room. He could feel Zach’s eyes on his back.

Skeptical, he decides to follow Harry. As soon as he reached the door and peered around the corner, Harry was gone - as if he evaporated. He’s unable to understand, the thought boggling his mind.

Harry exits the room and turns to stroll down the hallway to spot Louis leaning against the wall. If his heart was beating, it would have skipped a beat from being startled. He didn’t expect to see Louis standing there.

“Have a nice chat?” He straightens his posture, crossing his arms over his chest. He holds a smug face.

Harry shrugs. “Quite a nervy kid. Very impudent.” Just being in the presence of him made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable. He understood he wouldn’t be able to achieve a decent conversation with him if he wanted to.

Disinterested, Louis ushers for Harry to follow him down the hallway. A random thought strikes Harry’s mind, pertaining to the topic of discussion earlier about dealing with the new family who had recently moved in.

“Why didn’t you attempt to convince my family and I to move out? Since you seem so driven this time to get rid of this family now.”

“I thought you would be able to answer this question yourself,” Louis retorts, lightly chuckling, but he decides to give him an answer. “When I met you everything changed for me. You opened my eyes about who I am, and I couldn’t bring myself to give you up. You were the first real person I ever truly loved.” He takes Harry’s hand in his, holding it tightly. He lifts his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze. He realized he seemed a bit selfish as the words settled in the air. “However, my mum did step in and she made an attempt, but it didn’t seem to work out.”

Harry recalls the eventful night. It caused him to shudder. He always pondered if Louis had anything to do with it, but he he had a huge doubt.

“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” Harry asks him anyway. He earns an incredulous look from Louis, gaping at him in disbelief that he would actually ask that question.

“Of course not,” Louis scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would you ask such a bizarre question? Do you really think that low of me?” He couldn’t help but be disappointed in Harry for asking the question. His voice became gradually louder and he felt his blood boil as he continued to speak. “I wasn’t aware of it until you and your family started to make a beeline for the door.”

“No, no, no.” Harry realized he shouldn’t have asked the question. He knows Louis is better than that. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have asked that question.” Ashamed, Harry brushes past him and starts down the staircase.

Following him, Louis grabs his arm, and Harry stops in his tracks halfway down the staircase. Harry sheepishly turns around on the step. He expected to see Louis still ticked, but he was the opposite.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” he spoke calmly, “I guess I overreacted.” Noticing how Harry still hasn’t relaxed, Louis lifted his arm up, cupping his jaw and slightly bending his knees to kiss Harry who stood on a step below him. He makes it long and meaningful. It took Harry off-guard at first, but he didn’t reject him. “I’m not mad at you,” he whispers as they separate. “I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

The corners of Harry’s lips lifted upward as he gazed into his cerulean eyes. His nerves were finally relaxing.

“Now come on,” Louis ushered Harry down the staircase. “Three more hours and I’m all yours.” He ended the sentence with a smirk, and Harry understood what he was trying to convey.

 

* * *

 

The wife suddenly awoke from her slumber to odd, obnoxiously loud sounds occurring from downstairs. She recognized the sounds, starting to disturb her. She remembered that she left her door open, but it didn’t matter because the erotic sounds only caused her to feel more uncomfortable. She turns to her husband to shake him awake.

“David,” she whispers, setting her hand on his shoulder, frantically trying to wake him. He groans, rolling over onto his back and opening his eyes. They meet hers, eyebrows frowning across his forehead.

“What is it, Claire?” he mumbles groggily. He never enjoyed being woken in the middle of the night, especially with an early rise in the morning for work.

“I hear sounds from downstairs,” she responds, her voice kept in a whisper. “As if there are people fucking.” Her face twists in disgust as she finishes the sentence. If there were any intruders the burglar alarm would have been set off, which puzzled her. She knows she isn’t imagining things.

He rolls his eyes, convinced she’s just delirious because she’s tired, but he sits upward to listen because he knows it will make her feel better.

Hearing the peculiar sounds as well, he gawks at the door, then his wife. He started to become creeped out, but it urged him to investigate. It’s impossible to let it go, the noises were so irritating. He shoves the duvet back, swinging his legs over onto the floor.

Deciding to check on her children, but she doubted it was any of them, Claire follows him, but turns in the other direction as she exits their bedroom.

She makes her way down the blackened hallway. Her hand traces along the wall to guide her steps. Peering through the door left slightly ajar to Zach’s room, he was sleeping soundlessly. Her anxiety began to relax a bit, but she proceeded down the hallway to her two other kids.

*

A soft, but raspy moan leaves Louis’ mouth as he bounces on Harry’s cock, shifting his bum back and forth and eventually pushing himself deeper. His hands rest on Harry’s chest, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut. His jaw remained agape. Sweat caked both their bodies, his hair glued to his forehead. Harry’s hands both rest on Louis’ bum as he rides him.

“F-fuck,” Louis curses, he bit down on his lip. “O-oh my God.” His laboured breaths were loud, as so were Harry’s. Soft moans simultaneously escapes both their mouths, but they were louder than intended. Louis takes his right hand, wrapping it around his throbbing length and maneuvering his hand up and down at a quickened pace. His eyes drop down to meet Harry’s dazed ones.

Harry could feel that he was close, causing him to swear under his breath. He wasn’t so sure about Louis though, as he only began to wank himself. He gazed upward at Louis’ pink cheeks and his exhausted appearance. But he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

“Don’t you think we’re being a bit too loud?” Harry suggests, just realizing their volume. Louis shrugs, unable to give a clear answer.

“Oh my-fuck,” Louis blurts, ignoring the question. His hand flies over his cock, the throbbing pink head popping out of his fist. He doesn't stop, Harry’s question falling deaf on his ears.

Harry worried about being heard, ruining his mood a bit. He feared the possibility of being caught. Hearing the sound of footsteps from upstairs suddenly alarms him. They seemed to be approaching the staircase.

“Louis,” he says, trying to grab his attention. “Stop.”

*

Zach’s eyes snapped open, a random feeling of unpleasantness engulfing him. Feeling hot underneath from the bedsheets, he pushes them back. But his mind takes him elsewhere. He sits upward to feel a pair of eyes on him and he switches on his lamp on his bedside table.

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes laying on a young man sitting at the edge of his bed. His brown eyes bore into him, causing a shudder to slither down Zach’s spine. He crawls up against his headboard, a sense of fear settling in.

“What were you dreaming about?” Seth asks him, realizing the sense of fear and confusion radiating from the boy. He doesn’t receive an answer, so he continues to ramble on. “Y’know, I wish I could dream...or even sleep.” The reaction on Zach’s face doesn’t change, but he becomes slightly disturbed now.

“Who the fuck are you?” he blurts out, being careless with his language. It causes Seth to chuckle in response, but he doesn’t answer the question.

“Not like you need to know, do you?”

Zach doesn’t respond, but only stares at him. He doesn’t utter a word. He begins to slowly snake towards the side of his bed, swinging his legs over onto the floor. It was a situation he definitely didn’t feel comfortable in, and he was going to make an attempt to escape it.

Seth swiftly stands up, blocking Zach’s pathway.

“You can’t leave just yet,” he begs. “We only got started.” A smirk forms on his face, taking a step toward him.

 *

David proceeded down the staircase. The sounds had ceased suddenly, puzzling him. His head jerks in the direction of the living room to see it empty, adding more confusion. He steps down onto the floor, proceeding towards the living room to double check if his eyes were deceiving him on the staircase from being so exhausted. Not a soul to be seen. The atmosphere had decreased in temperature, a temperature that should raise questions. He shudders, and spins around to saunter into the kitchen to continue the search.

There’s a pinching sensation on his back, prompting him to halt in his tracks. The sensation felt like a sharp object piercing into his skin - as he was topless. The sharp object was pierced further, and his breath hitches in his throat. His heart starting to hammer against his chest.

“Don’t move, or this knife will penetrate through your skin. I don’t want harm you,” the pitched male voice threatened. David doesn’t shift a muscle. The voice didn’t belong to any of his kids, which caused the fear to heighten. The scene was ominous, and he still has no clue how to react to the threat. “Feel my pain and suffering,” the voice whispered again, his icy hands grabbing his arm.

“David?” Claire’s voice is heard as she calls down while flying down the staircase. He hadn’t given her any indication about finding the source of the sounds they both had heard, which worried her.

Whoever had been behind him disappeared, which caused relief to flow through him, but he remained bewildered. He spun around to see his wife several feet away. She regarded him curiously.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she remarks, the expression on his face concerning her.

“I-I really don’t know,” he stutters, unable to provide her a real answer. “The wildest thing just happened.”

“I think it’s time we should both head back to bed,” Claire drowsily suggests, ushering him to follow her. “We’re both exhausted and you’re probably hallucinating.”

Insistent that he wasn’t hallucinating, he’s reluctant to follow her. The experience felt too palpable that it wasn’t possible he was hallucinating.

A scream suddenly emits from her voice, her eyes glued to a sight beyond where he stood. Her hand cover her mouth in horror, her eyes showing genuine fear. David whips around on the balls of his feet, his breath being halted in his lungs as his eyes lay on the sight of a young girl. Her blonde hair was matted with blood, covering the side of her face.

He takes several steps backward towards his wife, the oxygen still ceasing to exist in his lungs. The young girl giggles, satisfied with the reaction she received. She stares dead straight into their eyes, a sinister smile on her face. Claire reaches her hand out, grabbing his arm to pull him backward towards her. They both start to turn to make a beeline for the staircase.

A knife flies through the air, directly past them, slightly missing his ear. Claire shrieks, the knife precisely hitting the wall. They both turn to receive a glimpse of a knife, then turning back to see the girl had disappeared.

“That wasn’t me,” her shrill voice is heard as she lightly chuckles again.

“Oh my God,” Claire utters, stricken with panic. “Get the kids,” she commands her husband, only able to conjure one solution.

As David turns for the staircase, a shadowed figure appears. It’s impossible to recognize any characteristics, mainly facial. But the figure represented a male build, and was a few inches shorter than he.

The figure begins to advance toward them, taking gradual steps. However, his appearance is still not recognizable. The blackened room provided no justice to aid them in pointing out the visage.

Claire and David both stumble backward, in the direction of the door which led to the basement. The temperature in the room dropped drastically again, prompting both of them to shiver simultaneously, goosebumps rose everywhere on their skin. Her heart was hammering against her chest like a drum.

Swinging the door open, they both spin and make a break down the staircase. Claire tries to steady her breathing as she quickly becomes winded racing down the staircase. The basement being so dark, they were unable to detect if they were being followed, which didn’t help her anxiety.

“Louis, you’re scaring this poor family.”

The deep male voice startles them, and they continue to retreat backwards toward the windows. The moon's light illuminated through the windows, casting onto the floor, providing at least some light.

Two figures appear, one taller than the other. The shorter one following the taller figure. Their faces are barely recognizable, but as the light hits them their characteristics are blatantly obvious. Claire stands frozen in her footsteps, her hand tightly wrapped around her husband’s arm.

“I am so sorry,” the voice apologizes to them, revealing himself in the light. “He gets a tad out of hand.” He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he could, his face molds into an aghast expression. He gasps, turning his head downward to see a bloody spot appear on his shirt. Dramatically, he stumbles, his knees buckling over until he crashes onto the floor.

Claire shrieks again, tears building up in the ducts of her eyes. The shorter figure approaches them, stepping over the young boy who had fallen.

“Sorry about Harry, he can be an irritating twat sometimes. You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that.”

David immediately recognized the voice, though he was already terrified, he takes another step backward. His heart continued to hammer against his chest, he lacks the slightest clue where this is could be leading to.

Harry situates himself on his knees behind Louis. He reaches upward and snatches the knife covered in his blood out of Louis’ grip. Attempting to act weak, he struggles to stand on his feet. He reaches his arms around Louis and slashes the knife across his throat. This causes both the husband and the wife to scream as Louis collapses onto the floor. They dart past them and run up the staircase, slamming the door behind them.

Once the basement was empty, Harry and Louis both regain their balance on their feet. They break out in a laughter.

“Very clever idea,” Harry comments, giving him a thumbs up. “Morbid, but clever though.” He thought they pulled off quite an act, despite his average acting skills.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Louis responds, satisfied with their performance.

They decide to follow the couple back upstairs to watch the final event unravel. As grim as it sounded, it was entertainment for them.

All three kids were racing down the staircase as David threw the door open. Claire was behind the kids. Louis and Harry followed them as they propelled their legs out the door. They both stand in the doorway as the family scamper down the walkway and in the direction of the car.

“We will have to do this for anyone else who moves in, right?” Harry asks Louis, turning to him.

“Yup.” Louis nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story has been both a pleasure, but also stressful. Needless to say, I'm satisfied by how this turned out. However, there may be a few kinks that need to be sorted out as I edit, but overall, it didn't turn out so bad as I feared. I would like to thank all the readers and kudos I have received. It means a lot to me.


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